Dangerous Game
by weezerz2490
Summary: Keep moving forward. Keep fighting. After being driven from her home in Louisiana, Samantha Tremble is looking to make a new start. What will happen when she encounters a certain redneck with a crossbow and others in his group? Is this a new beginning or the end of everything? Walkers aren't the most dangerous game out there. Sometimes it's people you have to worry about the most.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** Okay, so I just discovered TWD a few days go and ended up watching every episode of seasons 1–3, and it was so awesome, that I just had to attempt a story for it. I hope I can live up to the show's standards in my retelling, and I'll try to keep the characters from being too OOC, but I make no guarantees since introducing a new character/variable always changes things. Please let me know what you think.

Thank you for reading.

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_**Chapter 1: Prologue**_

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The small particles of the pollen and dust floating in the air shimmered in the rays of sunlight streaming down through the canopy of green tree leaves high above Sam's head as she walked quietly through the woods. It was a beautiful day, and she hadn't seen a single zombie for miles. For the moment, life was good. She was surrounded by the beauty of nature instead of the ugliness of the aftermath of the epidemic that she had seen back in New Orleans, and nothing was trying to bite her face off. It didn't get much better than this. Sam froze in her tracks when she heard something moving in the brush just to her left up ahead. She smiled when she saw what it was—a gorgeous whitetail doe.

Correction: apparently, life could get better.

Carefully and silently, Sam raised her bow and drew it back to its full extent, holding her position as she watched the deer and patiently waited for it to step out of the bushes and give her a clearer shot, following it with the tip of her arrow. The moment it presented itself, she let it fly.

_THNK. THNK._

"Huh?" She thought out loud, puzzled to see a second arrow embedded in the deer's hindquarters. She immediately whipped her head around, searching for the other hunter. It felt like _ages_ since she had seen another living human being. In that split second when her dark-brown eyes met his blue-greys, she noted that he seemed to be almost just as surprised to see him as he was to see her. They had both been so focused on stalking the deer, that they hadn't even noticed the other's presence. And then they realized their prey was getting away.

"Shit! Back off. That's _my _deer, bitch." Daryl hissed at the petite brunette as they took off after the bolting deer. He'd been tracking this doe for miles, like hell he was gonna let someone else take it. He was surprised she could even keep up with him considering she looked like she weighed about a buck-fifty, _wet_, and she had a bulging backpack weighing her down. And she was stealthy, he'd give her that. Not many people could sneak up on him like that.

"Don't call me a bitch, _bitch_!" She snapped defensively, hot on his trail. It figures that the first person she meets in weeks would turn out to be an asshole. "Come on, man. There's plenty enough to go around. Don't tell me you plan on eating a whole deer by yourself." Even she wasn't that gluttonous. Sam had been planning on turning her own left overs into venison jerky so it wouldn't go to waste.

"It ain't just for me. There's a whole camp of people waitin' for me to bring home the bacon." Daryl retorted. "You gonna steal food from the mouths of women and children?" He asked, hoping a guilt trip might make her back off. He'd never beaten a woman before, but there was a first time for everything. This chick was seriously starting to get on his nerves. She already had a rabbit hanging from her pack. She didn't need no deer too.

"There's more of you?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. If he was telling the truth about there being women and children, then it couldn't be too bad, could it? After what almost happened in Mississippi, she'd definitely feel safer trying to join a mixed group like that than if there were just men. She didn't mind being on her own for extended periods of time, but it was getting harder to survive on her own with more and more zombies showing up outside of major cities and towns. She used to be able to walk for days without seeing a single one as long as she kept to the wilderness and off the main roads, but she had encountered three in the last four days alone. She was packing heat, but Sam knew she'd be in serious trouble if she encountered a whole pack of them without any backup. One person could only do so much. "Tell you what, if you take me back to your camp with you, you can have the deer."

"You can't _let_ me have what's already mine to begin with." Daryl told her, furrowing his brow in annoyance. "… But I guess I can take ya there, if you throw in that rabbit." He relented after a moment. She was annoying as hell, but maybe the others wouldn't bug him as much if there was another hunter around.

"Thanks." Sam said, smiling wryly.

"The deer's already headed that direction anyway." He grumbled. "Now hurry up—it's gettin' away."


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing but my OC

* * *

**_Chapter 2: Trouble in Paradise_**

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Meanwhile, there was a little trouble in paradise back at the camp…

"God. What?" Lori asked her husband, recognizing that look he had in his eyes.

"I've been thinking, about the man we left behind." Rick said. His brow was creased with concern and guilt, but his eyes were resolute.

"You're not serious." Lori said, looking away as she went back to work taking the dry clothes off the line, wishing it were true. Before Rick could answer, Shane pulled drove up to the camp in his jeep, back from his run to retrieve some fresh water.

"Water's here, ya'll." Shane announced as he came to a stop and climbed out of the driver's seat. "Just a reminder to boil before use." He added, glancing over at Rick.

Rick gave his friend a small wave to let him know he heard and to welcome him back before turning back to his wife.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Lori asked, continuing their conversation.

"Asking." Rick replied.

"Well, I think it's crazy." She told him frankly. "I mean, I think it's just the stupidest way to break your son's—"

_"—Aaaaah!"_

Rick and Lori both snapped to attention when she was interrupted by a scream.

"Mom!" A young boy yelled.

_"Carl?" _Lori shouted, alarmed, as she and Rick instantly took off running in the direction of the screams, afraid for their son.

_"Dad!"_ Carl yelled again, causing Shane to grab a gun while he and several of the other men in the camp went running to help, too.

_"Mama! Mommy!" _A little girl yelled anxiously, sounding terrified.

"Rick!" Glenn shouted as the older man ran by, tossing him one of the digging bars to use as a melee weapon. Rick caught it with a nod of thanks in the boy's direction barely even pausing before chasing after his wife and endangered son again.

"Carl! Baby!" Lori yelled, rushing heedlessly ahead, desperate to get to her son, whom she could see was now running back to camp along with the others that had been with him.

"Mom!" Carl said, relieved, when he saw her.

"You're okay!" She exclaimed. Both she and Rick were relieved beyond words to see that their little boy was all right and unharmed. "I've got him. I've got him." Lori told Rick as she hugged their boy tightly in a protective embrace so he could go deal ahead and deal with the threat.

Rick and the other men, led by Shane and his gun, continued on ahead to take care of whatever had scared the children. It was a walker. Right there, only a few yards away from their camp, was walker munching on the neck of a fallen deer that had three arrows sticking out of it. Rick and Shane exchanged a look, silently agreeing on a plan to take it down. They nodded at the other men, indicating that they should work together to surround it while it was still distracted by the deer. The moment the walker realized it wasn't alone, it looked up and made the mistake of setting its sights on Rick.

_WHAM!_

"Ungh!" Rick grunted as he took a swing at it, nearly nocking it back off its feet. Shane immediately followed up with his own attack, hitting it with the butt of his rifle. He didn't want to fire in case there were more in the area. Glenn managed to nail it right in the face with another digging bar before the rest joined in beating it—Dale with an axe, Jim with a pitchfork, and Morales with a bat—before Jim pinned it with his pitchfork and Dale managed to land a lethal blow with his axe, severing the walker's head from his neck. Its body stilled completely. The men finally let themselves relax and took a step back from the corpse, staring at it, while they tried to catch their breath. Dale was the first to speak.

"That's the first one we've had up here." He said. "They never come this far up the mountain."

"Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what." Jim said, voicing a morbid thought he knew no one wanted to think about but needed to start preparing for.

CRACK.

They all jumped when they heard the sound of a twig snapping close by, followed by footsteps rustling the leaves on the ground in the thicket behind the large rock that was right next to where Jim was standing. _Something was coming._ Rick and the others tightened the grips on their weapons and moved in closer, ready to back Jim up. Shane raised his gun, prepared to take aim and fire if necessary. It felt like standing on the edge of the knife as they stood there, waiting. And then the thing in the woods emerged. It was a redneck with a crossbow.

"Oh, Jesus." Shane said, letting out the breath he'd been holding when his brain registered that it was just Daryl, clearly still alive and well and back from his hunt.

Daryl paused in his tracks when he noticed most of the men from camp, including one new guy he'd never seen before, were standing around holding weapons, almost as though they had been waiting for him, but that brief thought passed as soon as it came when he saw them all relax and lower their weapons once they realized he wasn't another walker. And then, he noticed the deer.

"Son of a bitch." Daryl said as he stepped down from the ridge just behind the rock, pissed to find the deer he had been chasing for so long already torn into, obviously by the decapitated walker that was lying lifelessly on the ground in front of the group of men, who had obviously just taken it out. "That's _my _deer!" He practically growled.

"Wow. Some welcoming party…" Sam remarked as she came up behind him, taking note of the scene before her and coming to pretty much the same conclusion as Daryl. She noticed here were women and children standing behind them, watching from a safe distance. It looked like Daryl wasn't a liar, but the fact that it took so many of them to take out one walker made her question their effectiveness. "Um, hi everybody." She said, offering them a friendly smile and a little wave despite the carnage before her. For a moment they just stared at her, taking in this strange new girl's appearance. She was dressed in camouflage hunting gear from head to toe. She was even wearing a long-sleeved jacket despite the heat. She was armed with a wooden hunting recurve bow that had a quiver for six arrows mounted on the side for easy access. Two were missing from the quiver—one in the deer, and the other still in her hand. She had a holstered handgun with pink accents clipped to her belt, along with a reasonably sized hunting knife. She was also sporting a large hunting backpack on her back, the kind you take when you're looking to take a long, serious trip into the wilderness. The but of a shotgun or rifle was peeking out over her shoulder. Whoever this girl was, she had come well prepared.

"Uh, hi?" Glenn said a bit hesitantly, glancing around at the others in his group, clearly wondering what was going on and if he had missed something while he was gone.

"Who's she?" Shane asked Daryl. He and the others all looked a bit surprised and confused to see her. Daryl must not bring back many guests.

"Look at it." Daryl said, ignoring the question the as he approached the mutilated deer. "All gnawed on by this… filthy, disease-bearing, motherless, poxy bastard!" He ranted, venting his anger by repeatedly kicking the walker's headless corpse.

Sam raised an eyebrow. Someone clearly had anger issues. Well, at least he wasn't taking it out on the living.

"Calm down, son." Dale said. "That's not helping."

"What do you know about it, old man? Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'?" Daryl retorted hotly. "I've been trackin' this deer for miles with that annoying Nancy Drew over there—"

"Hey." Sam protested, giving him a warning look, which he promptly ignored.

"—Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison." He continued as he retrieved his arrows from the deer before drawing his knife. "What do you think? You think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?" He asked, glancing up at the others. They didn't exactly look too thrilled at the prospect of eating a walker's left overs.

"The hind legs might still be safe." Sam suggested as she put away the arrow she had out. "They might be far enough away from the bite not to be affected." Like Daryl, she was hesitant to waste a good kill like that.

Daryl glanced up at her. Good to know she wasn't squeamish. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

"I would not risk that." Shane replied, sighing.

"That's a damn shame." Daryl said, giving the deer one last look of regret before standing up. "I got some squirrel, 'bout a dozen or so."

"And a rabbit." Sam said as she stepped down from her place beside the rock and handed over the beautiful brown rabbit she had managed to snag earlier.

"Right. And a rabbit." Daryl said, taking it without hesitation. "Guess that'll have to do." He said, glancing back at the others as he held it up for them to see while Sam moved to retrieve her own arrow from the deer.

"Ugh!" She said, jumping back when the walker's head suddenly snapped at her. Didn't they kill this poor bastard already?

"Oh, God." Amy said as she had to turn away, totally grossed out. Her sister, Andrea, grimaced as she also turned away and left to escort her younger sister back to the camp.

"Come on, people. What the hell?" Daryl said, throwing the rabbit over his shoulder so he could fire an arrow into the walker's eye and put it down for good. He pulled the arrow back out again and shook it to get any loose blood off. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't ya'll know nothin'?" He said before walking off. The men all exchanged a glance before going after him. All except for Dale.

"Hello…?" The old man said, offering her his hand.

"Samantha Tremble, but you can just call me Sam, Mister…?" She replied politely, remembering her manners.

"Dale." He said, smiling as they shook hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sam. I just wish it were under better circumstances." He added regretfully.

"Better circumstances?" She asked, furrowing her brow slightly. She could tell something was up by the other men's behavior, but she was hoping it wasn't anything serious. Dale's expression said otherwise.


	3. Chapter 3

I own nothing but my OC

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**Chapter 3: Bullets & Saints  
**

* * *

"Merle!" Daryl called out for his brother as he approached the camp. "Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrels and a rabbit! Let's stew 'em up." He said, setting his crossbow down before continuing the search for his older brother.

"Daryl, just slow up a bit." Shane called after Daryl as he, Rick, Morales, and Jim followed him back into camp. "I need to talk to you."

"About what?" Daryl asked, pausing to look back at Shane as he stepped forward while the others kept back as safe distance, watching just in case Shane might need some back up dealing with the angry redneck.

"About Merle." Shane said as Dale and Sam arrived on the scene. "There was a, uh—There was a problem in Atlanta."

Daryl glanced at the faces of the other campers and instantly knew that they already knew whatever it was he was about to hear, and it wasn't good.

"He dead?" He asked, trying to keep calm, as he braced himself for the bad news.

"We're not sure." Shane replied.

Sam furrowed her brow slightly as she glanced questioningly at Dale. What did he mean _they weren't sure_?

"He either is or ain't!" Daryl snapped impatiently. What the hell were these people playin' at? Just give it to him straight, dammit!

"There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it." Rick said, stepping forward bravely.

"Who are you?" Daryl asked testily.

"Rick Grimes." Rick replied calmly, almost apologetically.

"Rick _Grimes, you got somethin' you wanna tell me?"_ Daryl retorted challengingly.

"Your brother was a danger to us all," Rick began, "so I handcuffed him onto a roof, hooked to a piece of metal. He's still there." He finished explaining just as T-Dog returned from his trip to chop more firewood on the other side of the camp.

Sam's eyes widened slightly, and then she frowned. She could understand handcuffing someone if they were causing trouble, but just leaving them there? That was pretty messed up…

"Hold on. Let me process this." Daryl said, starting to pace like a caged animal. "You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof? _And you left him there!_?" He demanded furiously, his voice strained with emotion.

"Yeah." Rick replied simply, nodding.

Daryl's nostrils flared and his mouth curved into a deep frown. Before most of the people watching even had time to blink, Daryl had thrown the squirrels and rabbit hanging off his shoulder at Rick, forcing the other man to duck, as he lunged forward to attack.

"Hey!" Shane shouted as he ran and tackled the enraged redneck to the ground before he could get to Rick, knocking Daryl off his feet. If they expected that to end the matter, they were sorely mistaken. Daryl's knife was drawn before he was even back on his feet.

"Hey, watch the knife!" T-Dog warned.

"Urh!" Daryl shouted, taking a swipe at Rick with the blade, who immediately grabbed his attackers arm and dodged, while Shane came up and grabbed him from behind and pulled him into a chokehold. Together, the two of them were able to disarm Daryl and wrestle him to the ground.

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl roared furiously.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Shane replied calmly, tightening his grip against the struggling redneck.

"Chokehold's illegal!" Daryl complained. He was starting to have trouble breathing.

"Yeah, you can file a complaint." Shane told him glibly. "Come one, man. We can keep this up all day." He added as Rick knelt down in front of them, putting himself on Daryl's level.

"I'd like to have a _calm_ discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?" Rick asked Daryl calmly. All he got in response was some kind of grunt. "Do you think we can manage that?" He repeated a bit more insistently.

"Hmm?" Shane asked. Another strangled sounding grunt. Rick and Shane exchanged a glance before finally releasing him.

"What I did was not on a whim." Rick told Daryl while he was busy getting his breath back. "Your brother does not work and play well with others."

"It's not Rick's fault. I had the key." T-Dog spoke up. "I dropped it."

"You couldn't pick it up?" Daryl asked.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain." T-Dog replied, avoiding his gaze.

Daryl scoffed with disbelief and hung his head. Of all the stupidest… his brother had to have the shittiest luck ever!

Even though he looked like a pissed off, ragging bull about to bust out of his pen, Sam got the feeling that at least part of his pent up stress and frustration was probably to mask that he was trying not to cry. There was something defeated about him She knew what it felt like to lose a brother. She wouldn't wish it on anyone.

Daryl hoisted himself back onto his feet.

"If it's supposed to make me feel any better, it don't." He told T-Dog as he swaggered over to confront the black man.

"Well, maybe this will. Look, I chained the door to the roof—so, the geeks couldn't get at him—with a padlock." T-Dog explained.

"It's gotta count for something." Rick said.

Daryl scoffed at them and wiped his eye.

"Hell with all ya'll!" He cursed, waving his arm at them. "Just tell me where he is, so's I can go get him."

"He'll show you." Lori spoke up, causing everyone to glance at her. "Isn't that right?" She asked her husband. Rick looked from her to the others and nodded his head.

"I'm going back." He declared.

…

"So, what time are we leaving?" Sam asked. Daryl glanced up at her from the black crate he was sitting one while he prepped his gear and waited for Rick to finish getting ready for their little tip into the city of Atlanta to save Merle. She had ditched her jacket and big-ass backpack in favor of a simple sling to hold her bow, one that could go from a resting position to a firing position in a single motion, without having to be undone, and she was also carrying a crovel. Now that she wasn't wearing her jacket, he could see she was wearing a short-sleeved black and gold 'Saints' t-shirt, and she had some delicate pink flowers tattooed on the underside of her forearms, near her wrist. They looked kind of like wild roses, but there were no thorns or leaves and the petals had a slightly different shape. They almost looked like they had been painted there by some artist rather than actually being tattooed on because of how well done they were.

"What do you mean _'we'_?" He asked, furrowing his brow and glancing up from admiring her tattoos, when he realized what her statement was implying. "Do you realize where we're goin'?"

"The city, right? It sounds dangerous, so I figured you and Rick might like some back up." She replied frankly without batting a single eyelash.

Daryl wanted to face palm. Was this bitch_ trying _to get herself killed? He appreciated the offer, but he didn't need her death on his conscience.

"If you know, then why would you do a stupid thing like risk your life for some men you've barely even just met?" He asked.

"Because I know what it's like to loose a brother." She replied solemnly, causing him to glance up at her. "I couldn't do anything for mine… but maybe I can help you save yours, even though he sounds like an ass."

For a moment, Daryl just stared at her, as if seeing her for the first time.

"… Alright." He eventually consented after seeing her determination to help was genuine. "But just remember, you wanted to come. Don't expect me to go out of my way save your ass if you get yourself in trouble." He grumbled, looking away.

"I'll try to keep that in mind." She said, smiling wryly.

…

"So that's it, huh?" Shane asked Rick when his friend emerged from his tent, still buttoning the shirt of his freshly laundered deputy sheriff's uniform. "You're just gonna walk off? Just to hell with everybody else?"

"I'm not saying to hell with anybody—not you, Shane; Lori least of all." Rick replied calmly before walking off.

"Tell her that." Shane called after him. Rick paused and glanced back at him.

"She knows." He said with quiet confidence, before continuing on his way to meet up with Daryl.

"Well, look I—I don't, okay, Rick? So could you just—could you throw me a bone here, man?" He asked, not understanding Rick's need to put himself out there for two guys he barely even knew after he was just reunited with Lori and Carl. "Just tell me _why_. Why would you risk your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon?"

"Hey." Daryl said, pointing an arrow at Shane. "Choose your words more carefully."

"No, I did. Douchebag's what I meant." Shane quipped bluntly.

Sam raised an eyebrow. Sounds like Merle wasn't 'Mr. Popular'.

"Merle Dixon." Shane continued, his distaste for the man evident in his voice. "The guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst." He told Rick.

"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me." Rick replied. "_I_ can't let a man die of thirst—me."

"Thirst, hunger, and exposure." Sam chimed in. A fast and painful death by zombie, or a slow and painful death where you had nothing to do but wait and suffer all alone. It was hard to say which would be worst. Neither was a pleasant prospect.

"Right." Rick said, glancing briefly at her before turning back to Shane. "We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being."

"So you and Daryl, that's your big plan?" Lori asked skeptically.

"And me." Sam volunteered herself again, earning herself a surprised look from just about everyone except Daryl. "You don't have to worry about me." She told Rick, seeing that he was about to protest or try to talk her out of it. "I've got plenty of experience taking out 'geeks', as ya'll like to call them, and I know how to do it without making noise, too. Stealth is something you'll need if you want to get in and out without attracting too much unwanted attention." She argued reasonably.

For a moment, Rick looked like he still wasn't sure they should bring her along somewhere so dangerous, but he relented, knowing that what she had just said made perfect sense. And speaking of getting in and out... He turned to Glenn.

"Oh, come on." Glenn groaned. The last thing he wanted, after they had barely managed to escape from the city with their lives just the other day, was to go back.

"You know the way. You've been there before—in and out, no problem. You said so yourself." Rick reminded him. "It's not fair of me to ask. I know that—but I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too." He said, gesturing towards his wife.

"That's just great. Now you're gonna risk four people, huh?" Shane said. He couldn't believe they were even having this discussion.

"Five." T-Dog corrected him.

Daryl huffed at that.

"My day just gets better and better, don't it?" He asked sardonically.

"You see anybody else here steppin' up to save your brother's cracker ass?" T-Dog asked him. He shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Why you?" Daryl asked. It was his fault Merle was still handcuffed to that roof in the first place.

"You wouldn't even begin to understand." T-Dog replied. "You don't speak my language."

"That's five." Dale said, kind of amazed so many people would volunteer for the job.

"It's not just five. You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that Rick." Shane said, still reluctant to let them go off. "Come on, you saw that walker. It was _here_. It was _in camp_. They're moving out of the cities. They come back, we're gonna need every able body we've got. We need 'em here. We need 'em to _protect_ camp."

What he was saying wasn't entirely wrong, but Sam got the feeling Shane might actually be saying it more for his own benefit. Behind all that concern was fear. She was sure of it.

"It seems to me what you really need most here, are more guns." Rick replied calmly, keeping his cool.

"Right, the guns." Glenn said, causing the others, including Sam, to glance at him.

"Wait, what guns?" Shane asked.

"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns. I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left." Rick explained. "I dropped the bag in Atlanta when I got swarmed. It's just sittin' there in the street, waiting to be picked up."

"Ammo?" Shane asked.

"700 rounds, assorted." Rick replied.

"You went through _hell_ to find us." Lori said, shaking her head." You just got here, and now you're gonna turn around and leave?"

"Dad, I don't want you to go." Carl said, almost looking like he was trying not to cry.

But Rick was determined, they could see that in the look he was giving them.

"To hell with the guns. Shane is _right._" Lori told him. _"Merle Dixon?_" She asked, blinking. "He's not worth one of your lives even with guns thrown in. tell me. Make me understand."

"I owe a debt." Rick told her as he closed the distance between them. "To a man and his little boy. Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died. It's because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn him."

"What's stopping you?" She asked.

"The walkie-talkie," He replied, "The one in the bag I dropped. He's got the other one. Our plan was to reconnect when they got closer."

"These are our walkies?" Shane asked, suddenly understanding where Rick was going with this.

"Yeah." Rick said. Unfortunately.

"So use the C.B. What's wrong with that?" Andrea asked reasonably, not seeing what the big deal was.

"The C.B.'s fine. It's the walkies that suck to crap—date back to the '70s, don't match any other bandwidth—not even the scanners in our cars." Shane explained.

"I need that bag." Rick told Lori.

She looked away and bowed her head in defeat, knowing there was no way she could talk him out of it now. Rick moved over to talk to Carl next.

"Okay?" He asked his son.

Carl nodded, understanding why his dad had to do it.

"All right." Rick said, smiling. He patted his son on the head and looked away. Now all he had to do was pull it off and make sure he and everybody with him got back alive and in one piece.

…

Glenn, Daryl, and Sam were all ready to go and waiting in the van while Rick and T-Dog talked to Dale about borrowing his bolt cutters. Glen was in the driver's seat with Daryl and Sam chilling in the back. Well, Sam was chilling. Daryl was pacing impatiently. He reminded Sam of the tiger in the Audubon Zoo; it used to pace back and forth like that, too. Then Daryl abruptly ran out patience, turned on his heel, and slammed his foot against the van's horn to get the others' attention.

_HONK! HOOOONK!_

"C'mon, let's go!" He shouted at Rick and T-Dog. He wasn't leaving his brother on that roof a minute more than he had to.

They watched as Dale handed the bolt cutters over the Rick, and the two men started making their way over to the cube van. Rick handed the bolt cutters over to T-Dog just as Shane walked up.

"Hey, Rick, got any rounds left in the Python?" He asked as he set a black duffel bag down on the edge of the truck's floor, referring to his friends gun.

"No." Rick answered quietly, not wanting Lori and Carl to overhear.

"Last time we were on the gun range," Shane began, unzipping the bag, "I'm sure I wound up with a few loose rounds of yours." Rick smiled and chuckled softly.

"You and that bag—like the bottom of an old lady's purse." He commented, earning a smirk of amusement from Sam.

"I hate that you're doing this, man." Shane told him seriously. "I think that it's foolish and reckless, but if you're gonna go, you're taking bullets."

"I'm not sure I want to fire a shot in the city, not after what happened last time." Rick replied honestly.

"That's up to you." Shane said, pulling his hands out of the bag. He was holding four bullets, two in each hand. "Well… five people, four rounds. Well, let's just hope that, uh, let's just hope that four's you lucky number, okay?"

"Thank you." Rick told him, giving his friend a small nod before going to hop in the front seat of the cube van.

"Hey." Sam called out to Shane as he turned to leave. Shane paused and glanced back at her. "That hunting rifle in my backpack, ya'll can borrow it while I'm gone. Just make sure you take good care of it. It was my mother's." Shane glanced at Dale's RV, where she had left her stuff for safe-keeping until her return. He looked back at her and nodded in appreciation before making a beeline towards it.

"Thank you." Rick told her while Daryl closed the back of the van, and Glenn started driving away.

"It's not like I'm using it at the moment." She replied nonchalantly, shrugging, though Rick could tell she thought of the gun as an important keepsake.

"So… I see you're a Saints fan? I was pretty shocked when they actually won the Super Bowl." T-Dog said, trying to lighten the mood a little by starting a casual conversation.

"Yeah, sorry about that." Sam replied a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Why are you apologizing?" T-Dog asked, confused.

"Well, we always used to joke (affectionately) that if they ever won the Super Bowl then hell would freeze over… or that it would be a sign of the coming apocalypse." She explained, smiling wryly as she bit her lip.

An awkward silence filled the van.

"Well, shit. All ya'll had to do was lose one game, and crisis averted!" Daryl exclaimed.

"Oh, come on! A fifty year losing streak? We deserved to win at least once before the world ended." Sam said, trying to sound reasonable. It's not their fault a zombie apocalypse _just happened_ to start about half a year after they won. It was just a coincidence, really… Right?


	4. Chapter 4

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Tough As Nails  
**

* * *

"He'd better be okay." Daryl told T-Dog as the van pulled to a stop on the train tracks just on the outer edge of the city. "That's my only word on the matter."

"I told you, the geeks can't get at him." T-Dog insisted. "The only thing that's gonna get through that door is _us_."

"We walk from here." Glenn said, turning around in his seat to address them once he finished parking.

Daryl hopped out the back of the van with his crossbow as soon as he opened it, followed by Sam with her crovel in her hands and her bow on a sling over her shoulders, and T-Dog with the bolt cutters. The three of them walked around to join Glenn and Rick by the front of the van, and together the five of them headed into the city. No one spoke a word until Glen had led them through a hole in the chain-link fence under a nearby overpass.

"Merle first or guns?" Rick asked.

_"Merle."_ Daryl barked indignantly. "We ain't even havin' this conversation."

_"We are."_ Rick told him emphatically. "You know the geography. It's your call." He told Glenn as they walked.

"Merle's closest." Glenn replied thoughtfully, thinking it over as the group picked up speed and started to jog. "The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first." He decided.

…

The group of five entered the department store with extreme caution, not wanting to rush into any nasty surprises, considering a zombie horde had broken in the last time they were there. Most of them had probably given up and left by now, but there might still be some remaining stragglers… like the one growling at them from behind the checkout counter at the back.

"Damn." Daryl said as he approached her and raised his crossbow, taking point. "You are one ugly skank." He said, shooting her between the eyes. The walker hit the ground with a heavy thud, completely dead.

"Nice shot." Sam told him as he retrieved the arrow.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet." Daryl told her as they pressed on and made their way toward the stairs.

After checking that the coast was clear in the stairwell, they hurried up to the roof with Rick in the lead. Sam was right on his heels to the surprise of the other men, but when you suddenly don't have roughly twelve pounds of dead weight on your back after getting used to carting it around for over a month, even running up several flights of stairs is suddenly a whole lot easier. When they reached the top level, they could see the chains were still on the door. Rick pulled on the lock, but it didn't open, which meant it hadn't come loose or been tampered with, so they would need the bolt cutters after all. He nodded to T-Dog. T-Dog stepped forward and clipped the lock. They pulled the chains off the door, and Daryl kicked it open.

"Merle!" Daryl shouted out to his brother as he ran out onto the roof ahead of them. "Merle!" He shouted again as they descended to the lower level where he was supposed to be handcuffed. Daryl immediately jumped down when he saw what was waiting for them, but the others were stopped in their tracks by what they saw.

"My God…" Sam breathed. Whatever she had been expecting to see, it wasn't this.

'No! _No!" _Daryl yelled, his voice breaking at the sight of his brother's severed hand on the ground beside the empty handcuffs. _"No! No!"_

"Daryl…" Sam said softly, stepping down with Rick and T-Dog to join him, while Glenn very wisely waited on the ramp.

"Urngh!" Daryl roared angrily as he suddenly spun around and aimed his crossbow at T-Dog. T-Dog didn't flinch.

_CLICK._

In a flash, Rick's gun was out and pressed to Daryl's head. Sam's grip tightened on her crovel as she watched, wondering if she was going to have to knock one of them out to end their little three-way Mexican standoff.

"I won't hesitate. I don't care if every walker in the city hears it." Rick told Daryl, dead serious.

Daryl squeezed his eyes shut tightly, as though in pain, and lowered his crossbow. Then, after waiting another moment to make sure he wouldn't change his mind, Rick finally lowered his weapon, too. Sam exhaled and relaxed her grip on the crovel slightly.

"You… got a do-rag or somethin'?" Daryl asked T-Dog.

T-Dog just stared at the redneck, stunned by the odd request, as he pulled one out of his pocket and handed it over. First he yells and tries to shoot him, and now he was calmly asking for a piece of his _clothing_?

Glenn stepped down to stand beside T-Dog, while Daryl walked over to his brother's severed hand, squatted down, and spread the blue do-rag out on the ground in front of it. Sam moved a little closer, walking around Daryl to look at a trail of blood stains she noticed leading off to the open door on the other side of the roof. Rick glanced at her briefly before going back to keeping his eyes on Daryl.

"I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuffs." Daryl said, sighing, as he picked up his brother's discarded hand by the pinky. "Ain't that a bitch." He set it down in the middle of the do-rag and began gently folding the fabric over to wrap it up.

Glenn pointedly looked away, while T-Dog grimaced in disgust. You know what? Maybe he'd just let Daryl keep that one. But Daryl wasn't done yet. He took the wrapped up hand, walked over to Glenn, and started unzipping the Asian boy's backpack. Glenn closed his eyes as the redneck placed the severed hand inside his backpack for safekeeping and zipped it back up. He felt like he was gonna be sick.

"There's not a lot of blood, considering… He must have used a tourniquet." Sam spoke up, getting their attention.

"Maybe his belt. There'd be much more blood if he didn't." Daryl agreed, following the trail of blood drops. Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog all exchanged a glance, and Rick gestured for T-Dog to pick up the tools he had left behind the last time, which included the bloody hacksaw.

Sam let Daryl and Rick take the lead as the entered the stairwell since it was his brother they were looking for, and Rick seemed to be the official leader of their group of five. Glenn was behind her with Merle's hand in his backpack, and T-Dog picked up the rear once he had finished grabbing all of Dale's tools.

…

_THWK._

Daryl took out the walker that was waiting in the first room on the floor with a well-placed arrow to the forehead. Once that room was clear, he rejoined Rick and the others in the hallway, and they moved on to the next room, which appeared to be a larger office.

"Had enough in him to take out these two sumbitches." Daryl observed when they came across two dead walkers with head wounds. There was a bloody wrench lying next to one of the bodies.

"One handed, too." Sam added, impressed. She doubted she could do the same.

"Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother." Daryl said as he reloaded his crossbow. "Fee him a hammer, he'd crap out nails."

"Any man can pass out from blood loss," Rick said, "no matter how tough he is."

They continued following the blood spatters until they came to some kind of kitchen.

"Merle!" Daryl shouted.

"We're not alone here. Remember?" Rick whispered, wishing he would keep his voice down.

"Screw that. He could be bleedin' out. You said so yourself." Daryl reminded him.

"Shh." T-Dog hushed him. The last thing they needed was for more walkers to come.

"Anyone else smell that?" Sam asked, keeping her voice low, as she followed them in. It smelled like burnt meat in there.

They found Merle's belt sitting on the stove next to the several burning sterno cans. Next to it was an iron skillet and an iron bacon press. There was some very disturbingly ominous burnt tissue and spots of blood on the bacon press.

"What's that burned stuff?" Glenn asked when Rick picked up the press to examine it.

"Skin." Sam answered first, raising a hand to cover her mouth. It wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't just been thinking about how hungry the smell was making her a few seconds ago. That was the really disturbing part for her.

"He cauterized the stump." Rick explained for Glenn's benefit. Glenn looked away and blinked, trying not to be sick.

"Told you he was tough." Daryl said. "Nobody can kill Merle but Merle."

"Don't take that on faith. He's lost a lot of blood." Rick told him.

"I'm surprised he didn't pass out from shock." Sam added.

"Yeah?" Daryl said, walking away. "Didn't stop him from bustin' out of this death trap." He finished as they followed him, stopping in front of a broken window that was obviously Merle's handiwork.

"He left the building? Why the hell would he do that?" Glenn asked, not even bothering to hide his disbelief.

"Why wouldn't he?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. As long as he kept down wind and didn't draw too much attention to himself, he might stand a fair chance of getting to another building that might have less walkers. He was probably try to get as far out of the city as possible before he passed out. That's what she would do. Besides, it's not like he knew they were coming for him, or he wouldn't have been in such a hurry to cut off his hand.

"He's out there alone, as far as he knows." Daryl pointed out to the others. "He's doing what he's gotta do. Survivin'."

"You call that survivin'?" T-Dog asked incredulously. "Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passing out? What are his odds out there?"

"No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks." Daryl retorted before turning to Rick. "You couldn't kill him. Ain't so worried about some dumb _dead_ bastard."

"What about a thousand dumb dead bastards?" Rick asked. "Different story?"

"Why don't you take a tally? Do what you want. I'm gonna go get him." Daryl said, moving to follow his brother's trail out the window.

"Daryl, wait." Rick said, pushing him back.

"Get you hands off me!" Daryl snapped. "You can't stop me!"

"Hey, keep your voice down!" Sam whisper-yelled.

"I don't blame you. He's family, I get that. I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel." Rick told Daryl calmly but firmly. "He can't get far with that injury. We could help you check a few blocks around, but _only_ if we keep a level head."

"I could do that." Daryl replied a little more calmly. The corners of Rick's mouth turned up in a slight smile as he glanced over at T-Dog and Sam.

"I'm game." Sam said, good to go.

"Easy for you to say." T-Dog said, eyeing her weapons. "Only if we get those guns first." He told Rick. "I'm not strolling through the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, okay?" They all shared a glance.

"All right." Rick agreed. After all, T-Dog and Glenn were the only ones without some sort of real weapon. His desire for something to defend himself with was completely understandable.

"Fair enough." Sam said, shrugging. "So how are we going to do it?"

"Uh, guys… I may have an idea about that." Glenn said.

…

"You're not doing this alone." Rick told the Asian boy flatly after hearing his plan.

"Even I think it's a bad idea, and I don't even like you much." Daryl added.

"It's a _good_ idea, okay," Glenn said, a little annoyed that they had just cut him off, "if you just hear me out."

"I think he's onto something, guys." Sam said. "I've been traveling alone for a good long while now, and I hardly had any trouble sneaking past geeks, most of the time."

Rick glanced between her and Glenn before sighing and squatting down on the floor next to Glenn and the map he had drawn on the floor with a black marker. He looked at Glenn to let him know he was listening.

"If we go out there in a group, we're slow, drawing attention. If I'm alone, I can move fast." Glenn explained. "Look. That's the tank, five blocks from where we are now." He said, putting a large black binder clip in place on the map. "That's the bag of guns." He put a smaller ball of crumpled up paper next to it. "Here's the alley I dragged you into when we first met." He told Rick, pointing to it. "That's where Daryl and I will go."

"Why me?" Daryl asked.

"Your crossbow is quieter than his gun." Glenn replied frankly.

Daryl flashed him a faint ghost of a smile in response.

"While Daryl waits here in the alley," Glenn continued, placing part of a circuit board on the map, "I run up the street and grab the bag."

"But you've got us elsewhere?" Rick asked.

"You, T-Dog, and Sam. Right." Glenn said, grabbing a pink eraser and setting in place.

"And two blocks away? Why?" Rick asked again.

"I may not be able to come back the same way. Walkers might cut me off. If that happens, I won't go back to Daryl. I'll go forward instead, all the way around to that alley where you guys are." Glenn explained. "Whichever direction I go, I got you in both places to cover me. Afterwards, we'll all meet back here."

"Question." Sam said, raising her hand. "Why do you have all three of us in one spot? Wouldn't it be better if one of us was helping Daryl? If that side gets overwhelmed, he might have trouble getting back to us."

"The alley Daryl's in is sealed off by a chain-link fence. All we have to do is keep it closed while I'm getting the guns, and the geeks won't be able to get in. He can shoot at them through the fence. There's also a ladder that leads right into the building. You and Rick have weapons, but T-Dog doesn't. I want you to provide cover fire from your end for the same reason as Daryl—your bow is quieter than Rick's gun. And if you give T-Dog your crovel, he can use it as a melee weapon if the walkers get close." Glenn told her. "Rick," He said, turning back to the older man. "I only want you to use your gun when she runs out of arrows, or if I need a distraction."

"Hey, kid. What's you do before all this?" Daryl asked Glenn, somewhat impressed by his skills as a tactician.

"Delivered pizzas." He replied honestly without thinking. "Why?"

Rick gave a little nod of his head before glancing up at Daryl, who sort of shrugged and nodded as well. Okay, then.

"No wonder you know the streets so well." Sam said, grinning.


	5. Chapter 5

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Vatos**

* * *

Daryl and Glenn quickly and quietly descended the yellow ladder on the side of the building while Rick, T-Dog, and Sam hurried on their way to their own position two blocks away as stealthily as possible.

"You got some balls for a Chinaman." Daryl told Glenn while he loaded his crossbow and the Asian boy removed his outer plaid shirt, balled it up and tossed it aside. He had already decided to leave his backpack in the lab so it wouldn't get in his way.

"I'm Korean." Glenn corrected him, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at the redneck, before sneaking closer to the fence's already open gate.

"Whatever." Daryl responded carelessly, ready to take aim and fire the moment a walker appeared. Glenn poked his head out, checking both directions to make sure the coast was clear before running onto the street and heading for the tank.

Sam kept her eyes peeled for Glenn, while Rick and T-Dog waited further back in the alley, out of sight. If Sam needed their help, she'd signal for it. There were already quite a few walkers on the street, but Sam hadn't fired one shot. She was waiting for Glenn. She didn't want to waste arrows on walkers that weren't attacking. And then, there he was. She watched as the Asian boy sprinted out from around the corner two blocks away and dove behind a metal barricade and a stack of sandbags. He was doing well so far, which was good, because he was out of her bow's range. Oh, sure she could try shooting a zombie if it tried to take a bite out of him, but she was only accurate within a three-point range up to about 65 yards, and the length of two city blocks was well over a hundred. If she tried to go over that, she would probably be just as likely to hit Glenn as his attacker, if she hit anything at all… So it would probably be best to leave those shots to Daryl, since he was closer. Sam smirked when Glenn resurfaced and shot out from behind his cover to grab the bag of guns. He would have been out of there without a hitch if he hadn't stopped and turned around for the brown cowboy hat that had been dropped next to it.

"Crap." Sam cursed as she drew her bow and arrow to its full extent and took aim. Glenn could probably out run it, but if the others noticed one of them was on to something, they were more likely to gather and chase whatever it was down together. Her drawing arm shook slightly as she held it there, waiting for Glenn to round the corner before loosing it to make sure there would be no chance of it hitting him by accident.

_THWK. _TANG.

It wasn't a kill shot, in fact, it hadn't hit the walker at all. It had hit the tank. Fortunately, it hit with enough force to make a sound loud enough to distract the walker. It stopped and turned its head in the direction of the sound, as though confused. For a moment, it seemed like it might be more interested in the tank than Glenn, but unfortunately, it turned again and finished rounding the corner, not quite ready to give up the chase. There was nothing more that Sam could do for Glenn from her position. She didn't even have a line of sight on him anymore. She'd have to leave the rest up to Daryl.

_"Ayudame!_" Someone suddenly shouted loud enough to echo through the streets.

Sam glanced questioningly back at the guys, wondering who would be stupid enough to shout at the top of their lungs with so many walkers about. Did they have a death wish?

_"Ayudame!"_

That was it. Whoever or whatever it was, they couldn't afford to leave it, especially since it sounded like it might be coming from the alley Glenn and Daryl were supposed to be in. Rick took off running through the back alley, followed closely by T-Dog and Sam.

"Come back here, you sons of bitches!" They heard Daryl shouting as they rounded the corner of his alley. They could see him closing the gate to keep out the crowd of walkers that had started to come after him, and there was a teenage boy in a white wife-beater and jeans, but no Glenn. Daryl let out an angry growl as he grabbed the boy and shoved him into the opposite wall of the alley.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop it!" Rick shouted, putting himself between them so he hold Daryl back and keep him from pummeling the kid, while T-Dog restrained the Spanish boy, keeping him pinned to the wall with one hand while he kept a firm grip on the crovel. "I'm gonna kick your nuts up in your throat!" Daryl shouted furiously at the boy.

"Let me go!" The boy shouted, struggling to get away.

"Chill out!" T-Dog snapped back, pushing him back against the wall. What the hell was going on here_!_?

"What's going on? Where's Glenn?" Sam asked.

"They took Glenn. That little bastard and his homie friends!" Daryl responded hotly.

"What_!_?" Sam asked incredulously as she and Rick whipped their heads around to stare at the wannabe gangsta.

"I'm gonna stomp your ass!" Daryl shouted at the scared boy, pointing directly at him, while Rick held him back from beating the kid to a bloody pulp.

"Guys, guys!" T-Dog shouted to get their attention. "We're cut off!" There were walkers coming into the alley from the back, too.

"Get to the lab. Go." Rick urged the others. T-Dog and Sam didn't need to be told twice. They headed for the ladder, escorting their new prisoner, while Daryl stayed to cover Rick while he grabbed the bag of guns Glenn had dropped just inside the gate.

"Damn, let's go." Daryl said, but Rick paused and leaned back down to snatch the hat when he saw it. There was no way he was leaving that behind a second time. With everything important in hand, Rick wasted no more time following after the others.

"I can't climb that—it's too high, man!" The Spanish boy complained when they reached the second stage of climbing on the yellow ladder.

CLICK.

Sam pulled out her black and pink gun and aimed it at him as she clicked off the safety.

"You're gonna climb, unless you want a bullet in the ass." She stated bluntly as Daryl and Rick joined them on the metal platform. "Now, move." She told the boy, gesturing to the ladder with her gun. The boy swallowed nervously and began climbing, followed by T-Dog.

"I can't believe you just pulled a gun on that kid." Rick said, keeping his voice low so the boy wouldn't hear.

"I can, and I approve." Daryl quipped, smirking slightly.

"Relax. I knew he wouldn't put up a fight." She told Rick as she started to climb. She glanced back at them and winked. "No one wants to be shot by a _pink _gun."

…

Once they were all safe inside the lab, they began interrogating the boy on what happened in the alley. They had the boy seated in a chair behind one of the desks.

"Those men you were with, we need to know where they went." Rick told him.

"I ain't telling you nothin'." The boy replied calmly, much more chill now that there wasn't any sort of weapon being pointed at him.

"Jesus, man. What the hell happened back there?" T-Dog asked Daryl, clearly exasperated by the situation.

"I told you. This little turd and his douchebag friends came out of nowhere and jumped me."

"You're the one who jumped me, _puto_," The boy said, "screaming about trying to find his brother like it's my damn fault."

Sam glanced at Daryl out the corner of her eye. She could see that happening…

"They took Glenn. Could've taken Merle too." Daryl said, pacing.

"_Merle?_ What kind of hick name is that?" The boy asked mockingly. "I wouldn't name my _dog_ Merle."

"Damn it, Daryl." Rick said when he had to intercept the redneck again. Rick's attempt to hold him back didn't stop him from kicking out at kid. He almost got him, too. "Back off." Rick told the man firmly, pushing him away.

"I'd choose my words more carefully if I were you." Sam advised the boy sagely. "You do not want to piss that man off."

"Yeah." Daryl said, crossing the room to Glenn's backpack. "Want to see what happened to the last guy who pissed me off?" He asked the boy as he pulled out the blue do-rag and started unwrapping it. The other three exchanged a glance, knowing was coming. Daryl took Merle's severed hand and threw it in the kid's lap.

It took the kid a second to register what is was, but the moment he did, he slapped the hand away and jumped out of the chair, making a sound that was halfway between a groan of disgust and scream of horror as he backed himself into the wall.

"Start with the feet this time." Daryl threatened as he leaned over the kid and grabbed him by the shirt and ankle. Rick stepped in to play the role of 'good cop' and pushed Daryl away from the boy once again.

"The men you were with took our friend. All we want to do is talk to them." Rick told him calmly. "See if we can work something out."

The boy bit his lip as he thought it over, considering his options.

…

"You sure you're up for this?" Rick asked T-Dog as he picked up a shotgun shell and loaded the one he was using in place of his usual gun.

"I can do it if you want." Sam offered.

"Nah. I got this." T-Dog said, picking up a rifle with a scope before walking away with the rest of the bag of guns to take up his position.

"One wrong move, and you get an arrow in the ass. Just so you know." Daryl warned the kid as they prepared to enter enemy territory.

"G's gonna take that arrow out of my ass and shove it up yours. Just so _you_ know."

Sam smiled wryly. Had he been trying to think up that comeback ever since she first threatened to bust a cap in his ass with her little pink gun? Whatever the case, he must be getting comfortable with them despite Daryl's threats. He was getting cocky.

"G?" Rick asked, focusing on the important details.

"Guillermo. He the man here." The boy explained.

"Okay, then." Rick said, cocking his shotgun. "Let's go see Guillermo." He stepped through the broken window in the brick wall they were crouched down in front of where the iron grillwork had been bent back, creating a hole large enough for a person to fit through, followed by the boy, Daryl with his crossbow, and Sam with another shotgun. They figured it would be more intimidating than her pink pistol. Cautiously, the three of them crept through the rundown courtyard with their hostage, letting him lead the way to two great wooden doors. There were weeds, graffiti, and debris scattered about. The boy came to a stop a several feet away from the door. Rick, Daryl, and Sam raised their weapons as the doors creaked open and a skinny black man walked out. He was wearing a dark, striped collared shirt over a black tank-top with black jeans, and he had a rosary around his neck. It was Guillermo himself. They could make out the silhouettes of more men waiting in the shadows by the door, just in case G might need some backup.

"You okay, little man?" G asked the boy in their custody.

"They're gonna cut off my feet, _carnal_." The boy replied with a nervous laugh, furrowing his brow. G tilted his head slightly.

"Cops do that?" He asked Rick.

"Not him. This redneck _puto_ here." The boy clarified, nodding his head in Daryl's direction. "He cut off some dude's hand, man. He showed it to me."

"Shut up." Daryl huffed.

"Hey, that's that _vato_ right there, homes. He shot me in the ass with an arrow. What's up, homes, huh?" One of the men who had accosted Daryl and Glenn in the alley said hotly as he stepped out of the building and aimed a pistol at the offending redneck.

"Chill_, ese, _chill. Chill." G told his Spanish friend calmly, placing a hand on his raised arm to help him lower it. "This true?" He asked Rick. "He wants Miguelito's feet? That's pretty sick, man." He said, shaking his head.

"We were hoping more for a calm discussion." Rick replied.

"That hillbilly jumps Felipe's little cousin, beats on him, threatens to cut off his feet, Felipe gets an arrow in the ass, and you want a calm discussion?" G asked. "You fascinate me."

"Heat of the moment. Mistakes were made, on both sides." Rick retorted.

"Who's that dude to you anyway? You don't look related." G said, nodding at Daryl.

"He's one of our group more or less. I'm sure you have a few like him." Rick replied, glancing at Felipe and the other Hispanic gangsters standing behind G.

"You got my brother in there?" Daryl asked, deciding to ignore the 'hillbilly' comment for the moment.

"Sorry. We're fresh out of white boys." G told Daryl. "But I got Asian. interested?"

"I have one of yours, you have one of mine. Sounds like an even trade." Rick said.

"Don't sound even to me." G responded coolly.

"G… C'mon, man." Miguel said pleadingly. He wouldn't really leave him with these crazy people, would he?

"My people got attacked. Where's the compensation for their pain and suffering? More to point," G said, sniffing. "Where's my bag of guns?"

"Guns?" Rick asked.

"The bag Miguel saw in the street. The bag Felipe and Jorge were going back to get. That bag of guns." G replied.

"You're mistaken." Rick said.

"I don't think so." G retorted quickly.

"About it being yours. It's _my_ bag of guns." Rick told him.

"The bag was in the street. Anybody could come around and say it was theirs." G pointed out, unperturbed by the claim. "I'm supposed to take your word?"

"It says 'Sheriff' on the side, and he's a cop." Sam pointed out dryly. "What more proof do you need?"

"Even so, what's to stop my people from unloading on you on you right here and now, and I take what's mine?"

CLICK.

Several of the gang members raised their guns.

"You could do that. Or not." Rick said calmly, glancing up at the neighboring roof. G followed the cop's gaze with his own eyes and saw T-Dog aiming at him with the rifle.

"Come one, man. Make the trade. Please." T-Dog pleaded nervously even though he knew none of them could hear. He had the gang's leader in his scope, but he'd rather not have to kill a member of the living if he didn't have to.

G smirked slightly. Too bad for them, but he was prepared to counter their bluff by raising the stakes.

_"Oye."_ He shouted, calling for his men on the roof. Rick, Sam, and Daryl glanced up to see two men rather roughly escorting a young man wearing the same clothes they had last seen Glenn in to stand on the edge of the roof. One of them removed the bag over his head, revealing that it was indeed Glenn, and his mouth had been duck-taped shut.

_Shit._ Sam thought.

G didn't have to spell it out for them. He could tell by the grim expressions on their faces that they understood the implied threat.

"I see two options." G told them. "You come back with Miguel and my bag of guns, everybody walks. Or you come back locked and loaded, see which side spills more blood." Rick held the other man's stare for a moment before G and his crew retreated inside and shut the doors behind them.

…

"Well, that did not go as planned." Sam commented once they were back in the lab.

"No, really?" T-Dog asked, giving her a look as himself down on table by some chairs and Rick opened the bag of guns, rooting through it for something.

"Them guns are worth more than gold." Daryl told Rick, causing the other man to pause and look up at him. "Gold won't protect your family or put food on the table. You willing to give that up for that kid?" he asked.

"We can't just leave him." Sam stated. "I was raised by an ex-army woman and had a Marine for an older brother. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm on team 'no man left behind'."

"If I knew we'd get Glenn back, I might agree." T-Dog said. "But you think that vato from across the way is just gonna hand him over?"

"You callin' G a liar?" Miguel asked challengingly.

"Are you part of this? You wanna to hold onto your teeth?" Daryl snapped at the boy, giving him a little smack upside the head.

"Hey, don't damage the package." Sam scolded him. "They might try to take the interest out on Glenn."

"I barely touched him." Daryl replied defensively.

"Question is, do you trust that man's word?" T-Dog asked Rick.

"No. Question is, what are you willing to bet on it? Could be more than guns. Could be your life." Daryl pointed out. "Glenn worth that to you?"

"What life I have. I owe to him." Rick told them seriously as he finished reloading the Python and slipped it into its holster on his hip. "I was no body to Glenn, just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could have walked away, but he didn't. Neither will I."

"So, you're just gonna hand the guns over?" Daryl stated more than asked.

"I didn't say that." Rick stated, looking him right in the eye, before glancing at Sam and T-Dog too. "There's nothing keeping you three here. You should get out. Head back to camp." He told them.

"And tell your family what?" T-Dog asked, sighing, as he looked up.

"What part of no man gets left behind did you not understand?" Sam added stubbornly, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms.

Daryl stared at Rick for a moment before nodding his head at the cop. He was in. Rick and T-Dog may have left his brother on the roof, but they risked their lives to come back for him. They did right by him and Merle, so he'd do right by them. And like hell he was leaving them behind to have all the fun without him.

"Come on, this is nuts." Miguel said anxiously as they started distributing the guns. He tried to get on his feet, but Daryl turned around and stopped him, pointing for him to sit back on the floor with the promise of retribution burning in his eyes if he gave him any trouble. Miguel groaned as he slumped back against the wall. "Just do like G says."

But his plea fell on deaf ears. They had made their decision.


	6. Chapter 6

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Unexpected**

* * *

They decided to gag Miguel with a random towel they found and tied his hands behind his back before returning to confront G and his vatos again, and this time all five of them entered the courtyard with their hostage. Those large, wooden doors opened up before them with a loud creak and their small group was admitted entrance into the actual building this time, despite the heat they were all packing. Daryl gave Miguel a push forward, making him go in first. He was followed by Rick, who had the bag of guns, the Sam, and finally T-Dog, who was guarding the rear. The vatos shut the doors again once everyone was inside and quietly surrounded them. Sam turned to keep an eye on the back with T-Dog while Rick and Daryl covered the front.

"I see my guns, but they're not all in the bag." G remarked, furrowing his brow slightly.

"That's because they're not yours." Rick told him. "I thought I mentioned that."

"Let's just shoot these fools now, _ese_." Felipe said, stepping closer to G. "All right? Unload on their asses, _ese_." G raised a hand, silently telling his friend to back off for a moment.

"I don't think you fully appreciate the _gravity_ of the situation." G told Rick, looking a little concerned despite his calm demeanor.

"No, I'm pretty clear." Rick replied evenly, pulling out a knife. He cut the black straps they had bound Miguel's hands with and pushed him towards G and his crew, returning him. "You have your man. I want mine."

G stared at Rick for a moment as if having an internal debate before taking a step forward and closing the distance between himself and the armed cop.

"I'm gonna chop up your boy. I'm gonna feed him to my dogs." G threatened seriously. "They're the evilest, nastiest, man-eating bitches you ever saw. I picked 'em up from Satan at a yard sale."

Rick didn't even flinch. He just continued to stare the other man down.

"I told you how it has to be. Are you woefully deaf?" G demanded.

"No, my hearning's fine." Rick replied. "You said come locked and loaded." He and the others in his group cocked their guns. "Okay then, we're here." He finished, raising his gun so that it was aimed right between G's eyes as the vatos immediately rushed to cock and raise theirs in response.

Just when it looked like things were about to turn real ugly, real fast, they heard an elderly feminine voice call out weakly for Felipe.

"Felipe!" G closed his eyes, instantly recognizing its owner. She couldn't have come at a worse time.

"Felipe!" A little old Hispanic lady in a white robe, blue mumu, and slippers called out again as she shuffled into the room, making her way towards the same Felipe with a shaved head and tattoos that Daryl had shot in the ass earlier.

"_Abuela_, go back with the others—_now_." Felipe ordered, trying to get her out of harms way without having to lower his weapon and create a possible opening for the enemy.

"_Abuela_?" Sam mouthed, furrowing her brow slightly, as she remembered some of her high school Spanish and shared a confused glance with T-Dog. What was someone's grandmother doing in a gang's hideout? Did he bring her there after the outbreak?

"Get that old lady out of the line of fire!" Daryl yelled at him. Shooting up a bunch of thugs was one thing, but he wasn't offing an old lady.

"_Abuela_, listen to your _mijo_, okay? This is not the place for you right now." G told the old woman patiently, trying to get her to leave before the situation went from bad to worse.

"Mr. Gilbert is having trouble breathing." Abuela told her grandson, Felipe, speaking with a heavy accent. She sounded very upset. "H-He needs his asthma stuff. Carlito didn't find it. He needs his medicine."

"Felipe go take care of it, okay?" G said, letting out a sigh of exasperation, as he tossed a glance back at his Hispanic friend and the old lady. "And take your grandmother with you."

_Grandmother?_ Rick started slowly lowering his gun.

_"Abuela, ven conmigo por favor."_ Felipe said, trying to usher her out of harms way, but she wasn't quite ready to leave yet.

"Who are those men?" Abuela asked innocently when she noticed Rick and the others.

"Ah, _por favor. Ven conmigo."_ Felipe repeated, but she acted like she didn't hear him. Daryl lowered his gun too when the old woman moved even closer, walking right up to Rick.

"Don't you take him." She told Rick sternly.

"Ma'am?" Rick asked, furrowing his brow slightly in confusion.

"Felipe's a good boy. He have his trouble, but he pull himself together. We need him here." Abuela implored. Rick blinked and it took him a moment to realize why she would be telling him this, but he quickly remembered he was wearing his sherrif's deputy uniform, even though that life was over.

"Ma'am. I'm not here to arrest your grandson." Rick told her patiently.

"Then what do you want him for?" Abuela asked.

"He's… helping us find a missing person." He replied, omitting the more unpleasant details for her benefit. "A fella named Glenn."

"The Asian boy?" She asked, breaking out into a small smile. "He's with Mr. Gilbert. Come. Come, I show you." She said, taking Rick by the hand. "He needs his medicine." G stepped aside as Abuela led Rick past him and let out another sigh.

"Let 'em pass." He ordered his crew, deciding to give it up. They couldn't do anything with Felipe's abuela in the line of fire, and the cop and his group didn't seem to want to hurt her either. Sam and T-Dog finally relaxed and lowered their guns before following after Daryl and Rick, amazed that such an explosive situation had been so easily defused by a little old Hispanic woman. Abuela led them out of the garage they were in, up some stairs and into another courtyard before they found themselves inside a building that looked an awful lot like a hospital or nursing home.

Sam knew right away from the smell that it was a nursing home. Her grandfather had to stay in one while he was healing from a fall about a year or two before he died from heart failure. But that was four years ago.

Rick stopped and stared when he saw the occupants of the first room were a sickly old woman and a younger woman, who was helping her drink from a cup of water. He had not been expecting to see that. It was such a strong contrast between the scene of patient caregiving before him and the one back in the garage full of vatos that it hardly seemed real. But it was.

_"Abuela, por favor."_ Felipe said, stepping past Rick to take his grandmother's hand. "Take me to him." He said, referring to Mr. Gilbert.

Rick removed his hat as they kept walking, following Felipe and his grandmother down the long hall. Everywhere they looked it was the same. All of the people in this building were either old and sick or seemed to be acting as caretakers for the elderly. When they reached the room at the end of the hall, which seemed to be a cafeteria/auditorium/chapel, they saw that there was a small crowd of concerned people gathered around an elderly black man in a wheelchair, and one of them was Glenn. He was just standing there, completely free and unharmed.

"All right. All right." Felipe said softly as he leaned over the wheezing man in the wheelchair and pulled out an inhaler. "Nice and easy. Just breathe." Felipe instructed him as he administered the medicine. "Just relax."

"What the hell is this?" Rick asked quietly, not wanting to startle the residents, especially when one of them was already having trouble breathing.

"An asthma attack." Glenn replied "He couldn't get his breath all of a sudden."

"That's not what he meant." Sam deadpanned, suppressing the strong urge to face palm. It was great that he was okay, but really…

"I thought you were being eaten by dogs, man." T-Dog told him, kind of annoyed that Glenn could be so nonchalant about the whole thing when they had been sweatin' bullets for his sake.

Glenn furrowed his brow slightly in confusion and they followed his gaze as he glanced back at the three adorable little Chihuahuas sitting obediently in pink and leopard print doggy bed. The white, fluffy one barked. The look on T-Dog's face was priceless. Sam had to bit her lip in an attempt to suppress a snicker, but it just ended up coming out sounding like a soft snort instead.

"Aww, they're so cute." She cooed, squatting down in front of the three little dogs. She offered her hand to them and received several friendly licks in return. "Can I pet them?" She asked Abuela.

"Are you kiddin' me?" Daryl said, furrowing his brow. The minute she sees something small and fluffy she turns to goo. Guess she really was a girl, though it was hard to tell from her behavior.

"Could I have a word with you?" Rick asked G.

G nodded and they stepped off to the side.

"You're the dumbest son of a bitch I ever met." Rick told him frankly, keeping his voice down despite the anger he felt. "We walked in here ready to kill every last one of you."

"Well, I'm glad it didn't go down that way." G replied smartly.

"If it had, that blood would be on _my_ hands." Rick said, not the slightest bit amused.

"Mine, too. We'd have fought back." G said seriously. "Wouldn't be the first time we've had to. Protect the food, the medicine—what's left of it. These people, the old ones—The staff took off, just left 'em here to die. Me and Felipe were the only ones who stayed."

"What are you, doctors?" Rick asked, trying to wrap his head around this situation. Why did so many of them look like they belonged to a gang?

G shook his head.

"Felipe's a nurse, a special care provider." He told Rick. "Me, I'm the custodian."

Rick stared at the man. _No way…_

The two leaders decided to finish their discussion elsewhere. Rick, T-Dog, Daryl, Glenn, and Sam (after rather reluctantly parting from the Chihuahuas) followed G into one of the empty staff rooms.

"What about the rest of your crew?" Rick asked as he set down the heavy bag of guns on an old armchair.

"The _vatos _trickle in to check on their parents, their grandparents. They see how things are and most decide to stay. It's a good thing too. We need the muscle." G explained. "The people we've encountered since things fell apart, the worst kind—plunderers, the kind that take by force."

"That's not who we are." Rick said.

"How was I to know? My people got attacked, and you show up with Miguel hostage—appearances."

"I guess the world changed." T-Dog sighed tiredly.

"No." G said, getting Daryl's attention. "It's the same as it ever was. The weak get taken. So we do what we can here. The vatos work on those cars, talk about getting the old people out of the city. But most can't even get to the bathroom by themselves, so that's just a dream." He said, shaking his head. "Still, it keeps the crew busy, and that's worth something. So we barred all the windows, welded all the doors shut, except for one entrance. The vatos, they go out, scavenge what they can to keep us going. We watch the perimeter night and day, and we wait. The people here, they all look to me now. I don't even know why."

"Because they can." Rick said, sharing a look of understanding with G before handing him his shotgun. Rick leaned over, unzipped the gun bag, and began divvying up the guns between the two of them.

…

"Admit it," Glenn said to Rick as the five of them walked back to the car with a lighter load, "you only came back to Atlanta for the hat."

"Don't tell anybody." Rick said, playing along.

"It is a nice hat." Sam said, smirking slightly in amusement. She might try to borrow it sometime…

"You've given away half our guns and ammo." Daryl grumbled.

"Not nearly half." Rick retorted. They still had more than enough for everyone back at camp.

"For what? Bunch of old farts gonna die off momentarily anyhow?" Daryl asked cynically. "Seriously, how long do you think they got?"

"How long do any of us?" Sam asked in return. Rick glanced at her. That's just what he was about to say. They all stopped abruptly when they reached where the cube van should have been parked and waiting for them. It was gone.

_"Oh my God."_ Glenn said as they all stared at the empty space before them.

"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl asked.

"We left it right there. Who would take it?" Glenn asked. Was nothing sacred anymore?

"Someone desperate." Sam replied.

"Merle." Rick said with a certainty that earned him a glance from the others, particularly T-Dog.

"He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp." Daryl said gravely.

…

The sun was already nearly done setting when the woods surrounding their camp at the quarry came into view. They could barely see the trail beneath their feet, and the closer they, drew to camp the darker it got and the harder it became to see. But they didn't need a flashlight to find their way, because they could hear the screams.

"Oh, God." Glenn gasped when he realized he could recognize most of the voices. It sounded like pure chaos up ahead.

"That can't be the work of one man." Sam said. "They sound like they're all over the place."

"Rrrrr!" A female walker growled, limping towards the sound of their voices.

"Walkers!" T-Dog exclaimed, raising his gun.

"I got this." Daryl said, shooting it through the eye with his crossbow. "There must be more in the camp." He said as he pulled the arrow back out. Rick swallowed the lump that formed in his throat at the thought. Lori, Carl…

They needed to get back—_now._

"Stay close, everybody. Keep in a tight formation." Rick told them, taking point, quickly leading them toward the source of the screams and gunfire echoing throughout the woods around them.

The moment they broke through the tree line and saw how overrun the camp was, the five of them cocked their guns and proceeded to charge forth, lighting up the camp with gunfire. There was no point in taking the time to do things quietly, not when people were dying and there was already enough noise in camp to wake the undead to begin with. Time was of the essence. The more walkers they killed, the more people they saved. Sam had taken down about four and half, by her own count, with a shotgun when she noticed Daryl was beating his fifth or sixth in the head with the butt of the rifle Rick had given him. He had run out of bullets, but he seemed to be managing just fine without them. Rick shot another in his head with the Python and started calling out for his family, concerned when he didn't see them right away.

"Baby! Carl!" He shouted for his wife and son. "Baby!"

"Dad!" Carl cried, running to meet his father from where they had been holed up by the Winnebago.

"Carl!" Rick exclaimed with relief, hugging his son tight while the boy cried into his shoulder, scared but relieved to have his father back. Rick picked him up and carried him over to Lori. Words could not express how relieved they were to see each other alive and unharmed, but it showed plain as day on their faces. Shane stood off to the side, watching.

When several moments had passed since the last shot was fired and no new walkers appeared, Sam finally lowered her gun and glanced around to survey the damage. Daryl and T-Dog were fine, but Glenn looked so upset that she was pretty sure he was starting to hyperventilate. She crossed over to him.

"Glenn. Glenn, _breathe_." She told him calmly, firmly. "It's over now. You're all right. Come on, let's go join the others." She said, placing a hand on his shoulder to guide him, as she continued to scan the camp. Some of the tents had been ripped apart, and the bodies of walkers and their victims were scattered everywhere. Most of the survivors were already gathered around the RV. Sam sort of regretted bringing Glenn over to be with the rest of his friends when she saw what was waiting for them. A few feet away, a sad and terrible death scene was taking place.

"Oh, Amy." Andrea whimpered softly as she gently stroked her sister's bloody cheek. It tore at her heart watching her sister suffer so. Amy whimpered when she started to gag on her own blood. "I don't know what to do, Amy." Andrea said helplessly, wishing so badly that she could save her.

Amy slowly, with great effort, raised her hand to touch her sister's face one last time before she breathed her last. Amy's hand fell. She was dead.

"Oh." Andrea gasped softly, unable to hold back the tears in her eyes any longer. "Oh. Oh, Amy…" She cried, heartbroken.

As soon as the others realized why she was crying, many of them started crying, too.

"Amy! Aaamyyy!" Andrea wailed with despair.

Glenn gasped and raised a hand to cover his mouth, horrified by what was happening to them. Sam bowed her head and bit her lip. It was a scene all too common these days. Dale had to look away. He just couldn't bear to watch.

"I remember my dream now." Jim said solemnly. "Why I dug the holes…"


	7. Chapter 7

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Aftermath**

* * *

Sam sat back and watched while the others discussed what to do with the dead bodies that were littering the camp. Everyone still living, with the exception of Andrea, had gathered around the dying embers of the main campfire. It was almost dawn now, and they still couldn't quite agree on what to do with them. She had decided to keep quiet and leave the decision up to them since some of the dead used to be family and friends, and she hadn't even known most them long enough to learn their names before heading off to Atlanta with Rick and Daryl, but enough was enough. She glanced over at the RV, where Andrea was still sitting beside her dead sister on the ground, frozen in place. They were just delaying the inevitable.

"We should burn them." Sam spoke up, getting their attention. All eyes were suddenly on her. Glenn looked appalled. Daryl was staring straight at her, watching her with the eyes of a hawk.

"You want to just _burn_ them all?" Lori asked Sam, staring at her like she wasn't human.

"Look." Sam said pointedly. "We'll end up half killing ourselves trying to dig so many graves at once, and it's the only way to be sure the virus—or whatever spreads this disease—in the corpses is sterilized and no longer infecting the environment. We also need to make sure the people who died after being attacked by walkers don't reanimate as one of them. Personally, I think that will be easier to deal with if we do it _before_ they start coming back. I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but it's what has to be done."

"Easy for you to say." Jacqui retorted defensively. "You're just a stranger. They weren't _your _family and friends."

"Before I started traveling on my own, I stayed at another camp of survivors in Louisiana with my mother. " She began slowly. She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat at the memory. "We were attacked by a group of walkers, just like last night, only we didn't have so many casualties. We buried all the bodies in shallow graves. We thought that was the end of it, but then they turned and came after us again. A lot more people died… and my mom got bitten…" Sam finished quietly, looking away. "I know _exactly_ how you feel." She glanced back to meet their gaze again, determined. "It doesn't change what needs to be done. Don't make our mistake."

A heavy silence fell about the camp.

"She's right." Rick said after a moment. "I know it's hard, but we have to be smart about this. If we don't do it right, we'll just end causing ourselves more grief and suffering later. I know it hurts. These people were family, friends… but we have to burn them."

"Yeah. And we need to take care of it now." Shane agreed, nodding his head. Some of the others still looked reluctant to accept the decision, but they eventually gave in, and those that were able to got to work on clearing the camp.

…

Sam was in charge of setting up and maintaining a burning pit that was close, but not too close to the RV, while Glenn, T-Dog, Morales, Jim, and Jacqui helped gather and sort the bodies into dead walkers and bite victims so they could be taken care of properly by Daryl, who was using a pickaxe to lobotomize each victim to make sure they didn't have a chance to turn and reanimate themselves. Rick had excused himself so he could go find some high ground and try to contact that man he mentioned the previous day with the walkie that was in the bag of guns they brought back. He had to warn him not to enter the city. Lori and Carol were still sitting by the remains of the campfire. They made the kids wait in one of the tents so they wouldn't have to see how they disposed of the bodies. Morales' wife was with them, making sure they didn't get themselves into trouble. Dale and Shane were with them, keeping guard. At least, Dale was. He was on his feet, pacing back and forth with a rifle on his shoulder. Sam wasn't really sure what Shane was doing. He had a shotgun, but he was just kind of squatting there, staring at the ground. She could understand Carol needing some time to sit quietly and rest since one of the victims was her husband, but she felt Lori and Shane could be making themselves more useful. Sam stood up, wiped her hands on her pants, and picked up her trusty crovel.

"Time to get more wood." She mumbled to herself. She had been nursing and feeding that fire for a good while now and had built it up to a blazing inferno. Now she just had to make sure it stayed that way until they were done with it. "Okay, it's ready now. Just be careful not to pile them on too high before I get back." She told T-Dog and Glenn as she passed them, referring to the bodies. She didn't want them to accidentally smother the fire while she was gone.

"Are you gonna be okay by yourself?" Glenn asked.

"Yeah, I should be fine. This thing is more formidable than it looks." She replied carelessly, tapping on the shovel part of her crovel. After all, it was an axe, crowbar, hammer, shovel, and various other necessary survival tools rolled all into one. And the best part was that it only weighed 5 ½ lbs. Yep, it was pretty sweet.

Daryl paused a moment to glance up from his work when he heard she was leaving. He watched as she disappeared into the tree line before picking up where he left off.

"Ungh!" He grunted as he swung the pickaxe down, driving it through another man's skull. Sam was different from any other girl he'd met before. She could hunt, shoot, and wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. He was starting to feel like it might be kind of a shame if something happened to her.

…

When Rick returned to the camp the sun was a bit higher, and the sky was a pale blue. The first thing he noticed was that Andrea was still frozen in place beside Amy's body, in front of the RV.

"She still won't move?" He asked Dale, concerned. Dale shook his head, wishing he could do something for her.

"She won't even talk to us." Lori told him. "She's been there all night. What are we gonna do?"

"Can't just leave Amy like that. We need to deal with it. Same as the others." Shane said practically.

Rick sighed and nodded in understanding.

"I'll tell her how it is." He said, leaving them to confront Andrea about the issue as delicately as was possible in such a situation. As a cop, he had experience with to having to be the deliverer of bad news. "Andrea—" He began gently, about to squat down beside her.

_CLICK._

The next thing he knew, she was pointing a gun in his face.

"I know how the safety works." She told him in a dangerously calm tone of voice that meant she was not to be messed with.

"All Right." Rick said softly. A bead of sweat rolled down his face. "I'm sorry." He told her, slowly backing away. "I'm sorry."

She didn't lower her gun until he had completely retreated back to rejoin Dale and the others.

…

"Hrrngh!" Sam grunted with effort as she swung her crovel at the walker she had just stumbled across while collecting wood. It let out a low growl as the force of the blow knocked it over. As soon as its back hit the ground, Sam followed up with another attack, ramming the sharpened blade of the shovel into the walker's skull, just below the brow bone, holding it in place as she proceeded to repeatedly kick it with the heel of her boot, driving it deeper into the brain to make sure an adequate amount of damage had been done. The she glanced around, checking to make sure there wasn't another one lurking around in the immediate area. Satisfied that she was alone, Sam slumped against a tree and took a moment to catch her breath before placing her boot against the walker's head so she could yank her crovel free from its skull more easily. It was definitely a fresh one. There were virtually no visible signs of decay, and it didn't smell as bad usual, and the skull had been harder to break. It was sad, because she knew that meant it was probably one of the campers that had been attacked the previous evening, but on the other hand, that also meant it probably wasn't the member of a new wave coming to attack the camp. But she had to be sure. She kept a firm grip on her crovel while she tucked the small bundle of sticks she had gathered under one arm and headed back.

"Hey, T." Sam greeted the big black man when she passed him on her way to drop the wood under her arm by the fire. T-Dog had to do a double-take.

"Is that _blood_?" He whisper-yelled, glancing at the crovel in her hand. That _definitely_ hadn't been that way when she left.

"Yeah, about that… I need your help with something." She told him, keeping her voice low. She didn't want to unnecessarily alarm everyone. These people had been through enough already.

…

_"Damn."_ T-Dog said when he saw what Sam had wanted to show him.

"You know him?" She asked, hoping it wasn't someone important to him. He looked pretty shocked.

"Well, it's pretty hard to tell from the face... what's left of it." He replied, tilting his head slightly as he stared at the corpse. Its head looked like it had practically been hacked in half, nearly all the way through. He could see lots of brain… "_You_ did that?"

"Yeah. You don't have to look so surprised." She retorted somewhat defensively, crossing her arms. "I told ya'll I could take care of myself, and I meant it."

"I see that." T-Dog said, taking a step back. "And I'm impressed." Actually, this new girl was kind of scary, in a way. "Anyway, judging by the clothes, I'm pretty sure that dude is—was—Walt."

"Walt?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." T-Dog replied, nodding. "Didn't know him that well, but those neon-orange toe shoes are kinda hard to miss."

"Personally, I wouldn't be caught dead in those shoes, but at least now we know it wasn't a new one. It would suck if more came while we were still trying to get our shit together." Sam stated dryly as she leaned down and grabbed the corpse's ankles. "Come on. Let's get him back to camp."

"How can you be so relaxed about this?" T-Dog asked while he grabbed its shoulders.

"A walk in the woods helps me relax and release tension." She replied, shrugging. "The fact that I'm dragging a body should be entirely irrelevant." She noticed T-Dog was giving her a strange look. "What?"

"You're insane, aren't you?" He asked cautiously.

"Just a little." She replied, smiling ever so slightly.

…

Meanwhile, an argument was brewing back at camp.

"Y'all can't be serious." Daryl said, glancing at the others who were gathered around the unlit campfire. When he had started going to take care of Amy with the pickaxe, they had just come out of nowhere and stopped him before he could get close enough, going on about how Andrea had already pulled a gun on Rick. "You ain't gonna let that girl hamstring us? The dead girl's a time bomb."

"Then what do you suggest?" Rick asked him.

"Take the shot. Clean in the brain, from here." Daryl said, as if it should have been obvious. "Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."

"No." Lori said emphatically. "For God's sake, let her be."

Daryl looked to Rick and Shane to see what their opinion on the matter was. He didn't even have to ask. It was obvious they sided with Lori on this one. He could see it in their faces. He scoffed at them as he turned away and walked off. They didn't want to listen to him, fine. That was nothing new. He had better things to do than stand around arguing all day, but he wondered if their answer would have been the same coming from the newest member of their group. He glanced around, looking for her, when he realized she wasn't by the fire anymore, even though he had seen her come back. T-Dog was gone, too. Glenn was feeding more sticks into the fire, and Morales was struggling to move one of the bodies by himself.

"Wake up, Jimbo, we've got some work to do." Daryl told the spaced-out man as he passed him by on his way over to the others. He tapped Morales on the back to let him know he was there and dropped the pickaxe so he could help him move the body.

"Thanks." Morales told him, panting, as they worked together to drag the body over to the fire.

"Whoa, hey, what are you guys doing?" Glenn asked, walking over to stop them. "This is for geeks. Our people go over there." He told them, pointing at the pile of walker victims on the other side of the RV.

"What's the difference?" Daryl asked, not seeing his point. "They're all infected." Weren't all the bodies going to be burned in the end anyway?

"Our people go in that row over there." Glenn insisted, getting in their way. "We don't burn them!" He shouted. "We bury them. Understand?"

The two men stared at him. They had never heard Glenn raise his voice like that before. It showed how important this was to him.

"Our people go in that row over there." Glenn repeated once more.

Daryl shook his head as he reluctantly helped Morales drag the body over to be buried with the other 'people'. This was a mistake, not burning them.

"You reap what you sow." Daryl said aloud.

"You know what? Shut up, man." Morales told him. He didn't need to be stirring everyone up now, not after what they had all just been through.

"Y'all left my brother for dead. You had this coming." Daryl continued louder, pointing at the piles of bodies, as he walked away to retrieve the pickaxe from where he had left it. He noticed Sam and T-Dog had returned. She had a bloodied crovel tucked under her arm, and they were dragging what's-his-name with them ugly-ass orange shoes over. It looked like someone had taken an axe to his head. Daryl put two and two together and correctly deduced that Sam must have taken him out after he came back as a walker. Not bad for someone with such skinny arms.

Jim nodded at the two of them as they passed and went over to help Jacqui move another one.

"Are you bleeding?" Jacqui asked him, concerned, when she noticed wet beads of red blood on his shirt.

"I just got some on me from the bodies." He told her without even looking to check.

"That looks fresh." She insisted, starting to get suspicious. "Were you bit?"

"No." He quickly denied. "I got scratched during the attack." He told her, changing his story. Jacqui knew he was lying now.

"You got _bit._" She accused him, suddenly afraid of the man in front of her.

"I'm fine." Jim insisted, avoiding her eyes.

"Then show me." She said sternly, voice quivering, as she stood up. Jim glanced up at her and looked around before standing up so he could whisper to her.

"Don't tell, please." He begged.

"A walker got him!" Jacqui shouted anxiously, loud enough for everyone else to hear, as she backed away from him. "A walker bit Jim."

Jim started backing away from her, feeling betrayed. Sam could see the fear in his eyes when the others stopped what they were doing and started to surround him.

"I'm okay." He said. "I'm okay."

"Show it to us." Daryl said as he walked over, still holding the pickaxe. "Show it to us." He demanded whilst the others started to murmur amongst themselves.

Sam glanced at T-Dog. This was _not_ good. He gestured for her to wait there while he handled it. Sam didn't argue. She might have no problem with taking out walkers, but the living was a whole different story.

When he saw how they were trying to surround him, and how many of the people who were his friends up until a few minutes ago now looked ready to lynch him, Jim panicked and grabbed a shovel to defend himself.

"Easy, Jim." Shane cautioned him.

"_Grab him_." Daryl shouted.

"Jim, put it down." Shane said firmly. "Put it down."

While poor Jim was still scared and confused and distracted by the men in front of him, T-Dog came up from behind and grabbed him, pulling his arms back to the side so he couldn't take a swing at anyone. Jim dropped the shovel. T-Dog didn't want to hurt Jim, but if he started swinging, then a lot of people, including Jim, could get hurt. So T-Dog kept a firm grip on the poor man while Daryl rushed over and pulled his shirt up so everyone could see what was going on under there for themselves.

Unfortunately, Jim was _not _okay. Everyone's worst fears had been confirmed. Jim had been bitten, and it was still bleeding. Daryl and T-Dog immediately released him, as if touching him too long might infect them, and hurried back over to stand with the others, who were staring at Jim with looks of pity and horror.

"I'm okay. I'm okay." Jim kept saying. "I'm okay." His breathing was starting to become labored. "I'm okay."

Sam frowned sadly. She recognized the symptoms. The fever was starting. She glanced around at the others. They didn't seem to know what to do.

"I'm o—"

"It's okay, Jim." Sam said, stepping through the small crowd.

"What are you doin'?" Daryl hissed at her, staring at her as if she had just lost her mind

"Sam, don't—" Rick started, but she gave them all a steely glare that said to back off.

"Isn't it a little early to start forming a mob? He's still human. So are you. _Act like it._" She scolded them seriously, furrowing her brow with disapproval. "He's not dangerous yet—won't be for at least another day or two. There's no need to start getting really worried until then, not as long as we're careful." She turned back to Jim. "It's okay, Jim." She said soothingly holding her hands up to show that they were empty and she meant no harm. "I'm not going to hurt you. I bet you're starting to feel dizzy, aren't you? That's perfectly normal." She continued, walking over to stand next to a plastic black crate that was sitting next to the back end of the RV, away from the others. "Why don't you have a seat, and I'll get you a bandage for that wound, okay? Can you do that?"

"I can—I can do that." Jim said, nodding, glancing warily at the others. He was starting to sway a little.

Daryl watched with the others while Sam helped Jim plop himself down on top of the crate, even going so far as to touch him. He just didn't get it. One minute she was insisting they should burn all the walkers and destroy the brains of their victims just to be sure, and now she was trying to protect someone who got bit? _What was she thinking?_


	8. Chapter 8

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Last Rites**

* * *

"They're gonna kill me." Jim remarked languidly while Sam finished taping some clean gauze to his bite wound. His eyes were starting to glaze over a little bit.

"I won't let them do it while you're still you." She promised him as she put the medical tape back and shut the first aid kit. "I'll be right back. I'm just gonna go check on the others for a bit."

"I say we put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it." She heard Daryl say as she approached them.

"Is that what you'd want, if it were you? Shane asked him.

"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it." Daryl replied matter-of-factly.

"Good. We'll keep that in mind for when it's your turn." Sam stated bluntly as she joined their little circle. Daryl raised an eyebrow.

"You're telling me you'd be okay with turning into one of those things if it was you?" He asked skeptically, narrowing his eyes at her. He seriously doubted that.

"Killing Jim the way he is now would be murder." She said sternly, refusing to back down.

"I hate to say it—I never thought I would—but maybe Daryl's right." Dale said regretfully, shaking his head.

"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog." Rick retorted sternly.

"I'm not suggesting—" Dale tried to explain, but Rick wouldn't let him finish.

"He's sick, a sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?" Rick asked gravely. He was generally of the same opinion as Sam. Killing Jim now would be the same as murder.

"The line's pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers, or them that be." Daryl said without hesitation. He didn't see it as murder. He saw it as self-defense in advance.

"What if we can get him help?" Rick asked. "I heard the CDC was working on a cure."

"I heard that too." Shane said. "I heard a lot of things before the world went to hell."

"What if the CDC was still up and running?" Rick asked.

"Man, that is a stretch right there." Shane told him, shaking his head.

"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the CDC at _all costs_ wouldn't they? I think it's our best shot." Rick said. "Shelter, protection, rescue—"

"Okay, Rick, you want those things, all right? I do too, okay?" Shane said, interrupting him. "Now, if they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning."

"That's a hundred miles in the opposite direction." Lori said.

"That is right. But it is away from the hot zone." Shane replied. "Now listen to me, if that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there."

"The military were on the front lines of this thing. They got overrun—we've all _seen_ that. The CDC is our best choice and Jim's only chance." Rick insisted. Sam nodded her head in agreement, while Daryl glanced back over his shoulder at Jim.

"I haven't been in Georgia long, but I _know_ what happened in Louisiana." Sam said. "Most of the army bases had to be abandoned after they were overrun, but the CDC in New Orleans was still up and running when I left to look for my uncle in Mississippi. I agree with Rick. I think we should try the CDC first."

"You go lookin' for aspirin. Do what you need to do." Daryl told them as he turned away and started rushing towards Jim. "Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!" He shouted, raising his pickaxe in the air, as Rick, Shane, and Sam took off after him. But both men beat her to him.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Shane shouted as Rick drew his gun and aimed it at Daryl's head. Daryl froze in his tracks and glanced back at the other man.

"We don't kill the living." Rick said sternly, keeping his gun raised, while Shane placed himself between Daryl and Jim.

"That's funny, coming from a man who just put a gun to my head." Daryl replied coolly, staring back at Rick, as he lowered the pickaxe.

"We may disagree on some things, but not on this." Shane told Daryl. "Go on."

"Ungh." Daryl grunted in annoyance as he slammed the pickaxe down on the ground before walking away.

"Happy now?" He asked Sam acerbically as he passed.

"Come with me." Rick told Jim, helping the sick man to his feet.

"Where are you taking me?" Jim asked.

"Somewhere safe." Sam replied as she came over to help and took his other arm. Together, the two of them helped Jim into the RV.

…

Daryl was just getting ready to take care of Ed Peletier next, when Carol came up to him.

"I'll do it." She said with a soft sob. "He's my husband."

Daryl wordlessly handed the pickaxe over and took a step back to give her space. It was heavier than Carol had expected—Daryl had made handling it look so easy—but she managed to lift it. She took a moment to take one final look at what was left of her husband before swinging the axe back down again.

_THWACK._

With a sickening, wet, thud the pickaxe smashed into Ed's jaw, missing the brain entirely. Carol groaned miserably, wincing, as she pulled it back out so she could try again.

_THWACK._

Again, she missed the brain. Carol grunted with the effort of removing the pickaxe from her husband again.

_THWACK._

Carol sobbed when she realized she had missed again. Why couldn't she get it right? Suddenly, Ed's voice echoed through her mind, and she started remembering all the times he would yell at her and ask her the same thing. Why couldn't she do _anything_ right_!_?

"Hey." Daryl said when Sam walked up, grabbing her by the wrist to stop her. He wasn't about to let her screw this up, too. "Don't interfere." He told her sternly, furrowing his brow with disapproval.

"Who's interfering?" Sam asked, furrowing her own, as she yanked her hand free and continued approaching the crying woman. She placed one of her hands on the other woman's shoulder to get her attention.

Carol jumped, startled despite her gentleness… or maybe it was because of it.

"It's okay. I'm not here to take it from you. Your name's Carol, right?" Sam said soothingly, placing her hands beside Carol's on the pickaxe. "It's hard to aim when you aren't used to it, isn't it?"

Carol bit her lip and nodded as the tears continued to flow down her cheeks. "That's alright." Sam told her softly. "We can do it together."

Daryl watched as, together, the two women raised the pickaxe and brought it down right in the middle of Ed Peletier's skull.

_THWACK._

Carol let out another sob, but this time there was a slight, triumphant gleam in her eyes. She did it. _She finally did it._ The sensation of driving a pickaxe through her abusive husband's skull was even more satisfying than she had thought it would be. Sam was surprised when Carol started to raise the pickaxe for another swing, since they had already gotten the brain, but she went along with it. There was something in the other woman's face.

_THWACK._

_THWACK._

_THWACK._

Daryl watched as the two women continued to swing the pickaxe three more times, nailing Ed's skull perfectly every time.

"Nng." Carol sobbed as she finally let go of the axe. She had enjoyed it. She knew it was wrong, even though Ed was already dead, but she had still enjoyed it, finally having a bit of power over her husband, the man who had terrorized her and her daughter for so long. "Th-Thank you." Carol told Sam meekly, sniffling.

"There's a clean bandana in my pack in the RV. You can borrow it if you'd like." Sam replied, giving her a small smile.

Carol nodded her head in thanks and decided to do just that.

"Why did you come over here?" Daryl asked Sam once the mousey woman was gone, getting all up in her face about it. "First you stop me from taking care of Jim before he becomes a problem, and now you help Carol beat the shit out of her dead husband?"

"I was looking for you, actually." She replied calmly, blinking, as she leaned back slightly.

"What?" Daryl said, scrunching up his brow in confusion, as he took a step back.

"I don't mind being hated, but I hate being misunderstood." She replied, as if that should explain everything.

"And just what am I supposed to be misunderstanding?" He asked sardonically.

"I'm not happy about Jim's situation at all." She stated grimly. "The first mistake that camp in Louisiana made was not burning the walkers or destroying the brains of their victims. The second mistake was to let themselves become hysterical. They started turning on each other. They began hunting down anyone who was bitten or suspected of being bitten like dogs. And the way they did it was _not_ quick and painless. It was _not_ merciful. It was _not_ humane. And worst of all, those people were still aware enough to know what was being done to them." Her eyes were burning with anger and regret as she spoke. "I just didn't want the same thing to happen here."

"They killed your mother." Daryl said softly, remembering what she had said earlier about her mother being bitten.

Sam blinked, trying to keep the tears she could feel coming from forming in her eyes.

"They tried." She corrected him solemnly with a slight shake of her head. "But I managed to get her out. I convinced her to get in the car and let me take her away. She didn't want to. She was so afraid she'd end up biting me, that she made me promise to put a bullet in her brain the moment she stopped breathing… So I did." She said, smiling helplessly as she blinked back the tears. "I drove until we ran out of gas, and then I sat there with her and waited, trying to make her passing as comfortable as possible. I sat there, in that stupid little green Prius, and I waited for my mother to die."

"You shoot her?" Daryl asked watching her carefully for her reaction.

"Yes." Sam breathed softly, sniffling. She closed her eyes briefly before opening them again, taking a moment to regain her composure and steady her nerves. "Then I set the car on fire and walked away." Her mother died in that car, so Sam had decided to turn it into her tomb. She enshrined her in it. "I don't make promises I can't keep. She knew that."

"Okay." He said quietly. "I think I understand." Jesus, this girl had been through a lot. She had probably been planning to do the same for Jim all along, to wait until the fever killed him before finishing him off for good, before he became a walker. Sam was still willing to do what had to be done, the two of them just had different ways of going about it.

_BANG!_

Daryl grabbed the pickaxe as they both rushed out to see what the gunshot was all about.

"What happened?" Sam asked Shane and Rick, who were the closest to them.

"Andrea. She just took care of Amy." Shane replied as they continued to stare at the blonde woman. Andrea had set her gun down, but she was still sitting next to Amy's corpse, gently stroking her sister's bloody face.

"Let's give her a few more minutes." Rick said. "Then we'll start digging the graves."

…

Once all the bodies were loaded up on the back of his truck, Daryl drove them up to the ridge where they had decided to bury them, the same one Jim had been digging up the day before. They figured it was a good spot since it was a natural clearing and thought it would be far enough away from camp to be safe from contaminating the soil around their living area. Sam had eventually relented and decided to let the others do as they pleased with their friends and loved ones, saying it should be all right since they already took the precaution of destroying the brain so they couldn't turn, and something about how funerals were just as much for the living as they were for the dead. He still thought her initial suggestion to burn _all_ of the bodies was the best way to go. When he came close to the ridge, he did a K-turn and pulled in backwards so that the truck bed was facing the area where Rick and Shane were digging to make it easier to unload. Didn't make sense to make more work for himself when he was already against doing this to begin with. He climbed out the driver's seat and slammed the door shut.

"I still think it's a mistake not burning these bodies." He said as he approached the other men, who were still digging. "It's what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all, wasn't that the idea?"

"At first." Shane replied, glancing up. He noticed Lori and the rest of their group were already walking up. They must have been following right behind Daryl's truck.

"Chinaman gets all emotional, says it's not the thing to do, we just follow him along?" Daryl continued. "These people need to know who the hell's in charge here, what the rules are."

"There are no rules." Rick said, glancing up at him.

"Well, that's a problem." Lori told him. "We haven't had one minute to hold on to anything of our old selves. We need time to morn, and we need to bury our dead. _It's what people do_."

"… Where's Sam?" Daryl asked after a moment, noticing she wasn't with them.

"She offered to stay behind with Jim during the funeral." Glenn said. "She said it might as well be her, since she didn't know any of them anyway…"

…

"Oh, no. No, no, no" Jim moaned where he lay in the back of the RV. He was dripping with sweat. His fever was getting worse. "No, not this, please." He shook his head and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He groaned with pain. His breathing became more labored as nightmarish visions of walkers began flashing through his mind. He could hear them growling, see them gnashing their blood-stained teeth at him. "No, no, no. Oh, no. No, no, no." He held his face in his hands. "No, no." He could hear people screaming. "Ugh!" He gasped shaking his head, trying to chase away the feverish hallucinations.

"Jim. _Jim."_ Sam said, trying to bring him back into the real world. Jim whipped his head and stared at her with wide eyes, panting heavily. "It's all right, Jim. It's just the fever talking." She said calmly, taking his hand so she could place a brown pill in it. He noticed she had gotten him a glass of water. "Here, take this. It's Ibuprofen. I know it's not much, but it'll help with the pain and lessen the fever some for awhile."

"Okay. Okay." Jim said, nodding his head as he closed his fist around the pill and accepted the glass of water from her. He tossed his head back as he popped the pill in his mouth and began gulping down the water. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was…

"Okay. Good." She said, standing up again and glancing around the inside of the RV. "Now, let's see if we can get you cooled down."

…

Sam glanced up when she heard someone enter the RV about half an hour or so later. It was Carol.

"We're back." She said meekly. "Thought you might like a break. I can sit with him for while if you want."

Sam glanced at Jim.

"Go on." He told her. She looked like she could use a break.

"Um, yeah." Sam told Carol, glancing back at her as she set down the wet washcloth she'd been wiping Jim's face with. She could use a little air. "Thanks."

Carol smiled slightly and nodded as she passed on her way out before sitting down next to Jim. She picked up the washcloth and picked up where Sam had left off.

The first thing Sam did once she was out of the RV was to make a beeline for the community cooler of boiled water that was set up in one of the more shady areas of the camp so she could rehydrate. Jim had needed all the water he could get with that fever making him loose so much sweat, so she hadn't had much to drink yet for herself. That was a dangerous thing in this heat, even when you were healthy. It was too easy to get dehydrated.

"Sam." Dale said, getting her attention. "I hate to ask this of you when you've already done so much, but do you think you could help out with our patrol through the woods in a few minutes?" He asked, holding out her mother's rifle. There weren't that many people in camp who had proper experience wielding firearms. Daryl, maybe, but he felt more comfortable asking Sam to watch his back. "We could cover more ground with four of us."

"Who else is coming?" She asked, squinting with the sun in her eyes.

"Shane and Rick." He replied.

She glanced around until she spotted them over by the RV with Lori.

"Yeah, I guess I could do that." Sam said, taking the rifle. At least they would be in the shade most of the time.

…

_CRACK._

Sam glanced at Dale when he stepped on a branch hidden beneath the leaves on the ground.

"Sorry." Dale said apologetically. He didn't think it would be that loud.

"Well, at least we know it was you and not another walker." She replied, shaking her head slightly. Aside from Dale's little snafu just now, their patrol had been blessedly uneventful.

Until they came upon Shane. He was alone, and he had his gun raised. Dale and Sam raised their own rifles and peered through the scopes to see what he was aiming at. The only thing out there was Rick. They lowered their guns and exchanged worried glances, but they remained silent. They didn't want to say anything in case they startled Shane and he accidentally shot his best friend… but they grew even more concerned and disturbed when they realized that not only did Shane have Rick in his sights, but he was _holding_ him there, adjusting his aim to follow Rick as he moved. _It was not an accident._ Just when Sam was getting ready to try something, afraid he might actually take the shot, Shane lowered his rifle, and she let out a sigh of relief. He heard her and glanced at them.

"Jesus." Dale said grimly, deeply disturbed by what he had just seen. What was _that_ all about?

The other man let out a nervous chuckle.

"I know." Shane said. "Gonna have to start wearing reflective vests out here."

"Yeah, right." Sam said warily, not buying his act for a minute. Neither was Dale from the look on his face.

"Seriously." Shane said lightly, still trying to pass it off as an accident. "Come on, man." He called out to Rick. He sniffed as he put his cap on and glanced back at Sam and Dale. "Come on, let's go." He told them. "Nothin' out here."

Sam and Dale exchanged a glance with each other before following after the other two men, coming to a silent consensus not to mention anything about what they had just seen to Rick or the others. Rick probably wouldn't believe them even if they did. He wouldn't want to. And they had all been through enough without throwing this latest letdown into the mix. For now, they'd just have to keep an eye on Shane and do their best to make sure it didn't happen again.

…

When the four of them got back, they saw that pretty much everyone had gathered around the unlit campfire in the center of the camp.

"I've, uh—I've been thinking about Rick's plan." Shane said as they walked over. Sam noticed Daryl was also carrying a gun as he made his way towards the group from over by the edge of camp. He must have been on guard or doing his own sweep of the perimeter. "Now look, there are no, uh—no guarantees, either way. I'll be the first to admit that." Shane continued. "I've known this man a long time. I trust his instincts." He said seriously, causing Lori to glance up at him. "I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So, those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning. Okay?" he said, glancing around to see their reaction. No one protested or tried to argue. It was decided. Tomorrow, they'd head for the CDC.

…

"You've got balls." Daryl told Sam as he walked up to the spot where she'd set up a simple lean-to-shelter using only her poncho, two sticks, and some paracord. "Sleeping out in the open like this after what happened." Didn't she realize how exposed she was?

"It's not like those tents are any better at keeping out walkers." She replied calmly, stretching out on top of her sleeping bag. She had her bow and arrows and rifle laying right beside her, and her handgun was under her pillow. "At least with this I can get out easily instead of getting trapped inside. Besides, it's worked pretty well for me so far, and the cool night air feels good after being in the sun all day."

Daryl shrugged and nodded his head. Fair enough. Sleeping in a tent certainly hadn't done Ed Peletier any good.

"Hey, is it cool if I ride with you in your truck tomorrow when we leave?" Sam asked abruptly, propping herself up on her elbows.

"No." Daryl answered immediately, giving her a funny look. Where had that come from? "I thought you'd be with Dale and Glenn in the RV, lookin' after Jim."

"Jacqui wants to take her turn taking care of Jim then." She replied. "I can't just sit around twiddling my thumbs with nothing to do but watch a man suffering like that. It'll drive me crazy."

"So get a ride with T-Dog or Shane." He told her. He didn't want someone sitting in the passenger seat and talking in his ear the whole way there.

"I heard Andrea's already arranged to ride with T-Dog, and nothing against her, but I just don't want to be trapped in a small, enclosed space with all that depression and awkward silence. And I don't trust Shane." She said, frowning as she said the last part.

Daryl raised an eyebrow. Really? Most people would rather trust Shane than him any day.

"So, you don't trust Shane, but you'll trust me?" He asked skeptically.

"I'd rather spend time with an honest rough-around-the-edges sinner than a well-polished hypocrite any day." She responded honestly. "I'll probably just end up sleeping the most of the way anyway." She added.

"Fine. But don't be snorin' the whole way there, or I'll leave you on the side of the road." He said, deciding to tease her a little.

"I do not snore." Sam huffed defensively. "If I did, I'd have probably been eaten by walkers in my sleep by now." She stated conclusively.

"Whatever." Daryl shrugged carelessly and turned to wander off to his own tent and start packing. No arguing with that logic.


	9. Chapter 9

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 9: Wildfire**

* * *

The following morning, once everyone had finished packing up, and they were all ready to hit the road, Rick and Shane had them all gather round for a quick talk before they left. Sam noticed that Rick had Rick taped a note for Morgan and his son to the red sports car warning them that the area wasn't safe and that they were headed for the CDC after he failed to directly contact them with the walkie-talkie earlier as an extra precaution.

"All right, everybody listen up." Shane said, calling them to attention. "Those of you with C.B.s, we're gonna be on channel 40. But let's keep the chatter down, okay? Now, you got a problem, don't have a C.B., can't get a signal—anything at all—you're gonna hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan. Any questions?"

"We're, uh… We're not going." Morales said. Sam watched as everyone else stared at him and his family, stunned. _Why?_

"We have family in Birmingham." His wife explained. "We want to be with our people."

"You go on your own, you won't have anyone to watch your back." Shane told them.

"We'll take the chance." Morales replied calmly. "I gotta do what's best for my family."

"You sure?" Rick asked.

"We talked about it." Morales said, glancing at his wife and two children. "We're sure." They figured it couldn't be any worse in Alabama than it was in Georgia.

"All Right." Rick said, glancing at Shane. "Shane?"

"Yeah." Shane agreed, nodding. Rick squatted down by the bag of guns at their feet and started searching through it.

".357?" He asked Shane.

"Yeah." Shane said, kneeling down to help him look for the matching ammo. That should suit Morales' needs just fine. Once they found what they were looking for, Rick and Shane handed a pistol and box of bullets over to Morales.

"The box is half full." Shane told Morales.

Daryl scoffed. He couldn't believe they were just giving away yet another gun. Like he said, those guns were more valuable than gold, and Rick was just handing them out like candy.

"Thank you all… for everything." Morales' wife said as Lori came over and gave her a hug.

"Good luck, man." Shane told Morales, shaking the man's hand while Lori gave the both of the Hispanic couple's children a kiss goodbye on the head.

"Appreciate it." Morales replied, nodding his head.

"Yeah." Shane said. It was a very emotional parting for the whole group.

Sam watched while Carol's daughter, Sophia, cried and said goodbye to their little girl, who hugged her and gave Sophia her doll to remember her by.

"Channel 40. If you change your minds." Rick reminded Morales as they shook hands. "All right?"

"Yeah." Morales said, nodding. He and his family glanced back at the rest of the group one last time before heading to their car.

"What makes you think our odds are any better?" Shane asked Rick lowly, so the others wouldn't hear, before raising his voice and addressing the rest of the group. "Come on. Let's go." He told them. "Let's move out."

One after another, the remaining survivors of the quarry camp took the road. First was the Morales family in a silver Suzuki Samurai. Second, was the Winnebago with Dale, Glenn, Jacqui, and Jim. Third, was The Grimes family with Carol and Sophia in the Peletier's yellow Jeep Cherokee. Fourth was T-Dog in his church's van with Andrea in the passenger seat. Fifth were Daryl and Sam in his grey Ford-250, and last was Shane in his black Jeep Wrangler. After they had been cruising down the highway for awhile, and they had separated from the Morales family, Daryl glanced at Sam. True to her word, she had fallen fast asleep in the passenger seat with her head propped up against the window. No wonder she was being so nice and quiet. Daryl turned his attention back to the road, enjoying the peaceful drive. They passed a couple of abandoned houses and some power line pylons, but the view was mostly trees, trees, and more trees. Their ride to the CDC was going really smoothly, until they hit a little snag when the RV broke down.

…

"I told you we'd never get far on that hose." Dale told Rick as they stood in front of the steaming and hissing engine. Everyone else in their little caravan had gathered around, too, to see what was wrong, with the exception of Jacqui, who was still in the RV with Jim. "We needed the one from the cube van."

"Can you jerry-rig it?" Rick asked.

"That's all it's been so far. It's more duct tape than hose." Dale replied. "And I'm out of duct tape."

"Well, I think I might still have enough left for your purposes on my roll." Sam said. "Would that help?"

"It would help a great deal." Dale said, smiling wryly. It was certainly better than nothing.

"I'll go get it from my bag, then." She said, heading back to Daryl's truck.

"Is there anything you don't have in that bag?" Daryl called after her. The girl was like friggin' Mary Poppins in camouflage.

"Well, I've yet to see Narnia in there, but there's always hope, right?" She joked, tossing him a cheeky grin, before continuing on her way.

"Is it just me, or is that girl really strange?" Andrea asked, staring after her. She was pretty brave talking back to Daryl like that.

"It's not just you." T-Dog deadpanned.

"I see somethin' up ahead." Shane said, lowering the binoculars in hid hands. "A gas station, if we're lucky."

"Y'all, Jim—It's bad." Jacqui called out to them as she suddenly came rushing out of the RV. "I don't think he can take it anymore."

"Hey, Rick, you wanna hold down the fort? I'll drive up ahead, see what I can bring back." Shane suggested.

"Yeah, I'll come along too, and I'll back you up." T-Dog told him.

Rick nodded. Sounded like a good plan.

"Y'all keep your eyes open, now. We'll be right back." Shane told everyone as Rick entered the RV to check on Jim.

"We'll be back on the road soon." Rick told Jim, hoping it would reassure him. However, his words seemed to have the opposite affect.

"Oh, no. Christ." Jim cursed weakly. He was in really bad shape. They had run out of Ibuprofen miles ago, and even if they had any left, his illness had advanced to the point where it wouldn't have been able to make much of a difference anyway. "My bones—My bones are like glass. Every little bump—God, this ride is killing me. Just leave me here." He told Rick. "_I'm done._ Just leave me. I wanna be with my family."

"They're all dead." Rick reminded him gently, sitting down. "I don't think you know what you're asking. The fever—you've been delirious more often than not."

"I know. Don't you think I know?" Jim said, groaning in pain as he tried to sit up a little more. "I'm clear now." He told Rick, looking him straight in the eye. "In five minutes, I may not be. Rick, I know what I'm asking. I want this. Leave me here. Now, that's on me. Okay? My decision, not your failure."

…

"It's what he said he wants." Rick said solemnly. He had waited for Shane and T-Dog to get back before telling the others. He thought everyone should be part of such an important discussion.

"And he's lucid?" Carol asked.

"He seems to be. I would say yes." Rick replied grimly, wishing it wasn't so.

"Back in the camp, when I said Daryl might be right, and you shut me down, you misunderstood." Dale said, shaking his head. "I would _never_ go along with just callously killing a man. I was just gonna suggest that we ask Jim what _he_ wants… and I think we have an answer."

Sam bowed her head. She thought they did, too.

"We just leave him here? Take off?" Shane asked. "Man, I'm not sure I could live with that."

"It's not your call." Lori said. "Either one of you."

…

"Yeah, that's it." Shane grunted as he and Rick set Jim down beneath the shade of a big, beautiful maple, propping him up so that he was sitting with his back against the tree trunk.

"Hey, another damn tree." Jim remarked, chuckling, despite his pain.

"Hey, Jim—I mean, you know it doesn't have to be this." Shane said, trying to give him another chance to change his mind.

"No. It's good." Jim said, licking his dry lips. "The breeze feels nice."

"Okay." Shane said, patting him on the arm. "All right." He stepped back so the others could have a chance to say their good byes. Jacqui stepped forward first.

"Just close your eyes, sweetie. Don't fight." She said gently, placing a kiss on his feverish cheek, trying not to cry as she walked away.

Rick was next.

"Jim, do you want this?" He asked carefully, holding out a small pistol.

"No." Jim breathed softly. "You'll need it. I'm okay." He reassured Rick calmly. "I'm okay."

Dale stepped forward and knelt down in front of his friend.

"Thanks for, uh… Thanks for fighting for us." He told him, struggling to find the right words.

"Okay." Jim said. It was getting harder to speak.

The others didn't come closer, but he could see the sadness in their eyes. The silent goodbyes. Glenn sniffed, nodding at him with watery eyes, as he and most of the others turned to leave. It was just Sam and Daryl left now.

Daryl stared at Jim for a moment longer before giving a little nod in his direction, a kind of subtle to salute to him for being strong enough to make the choice he did.

"You… You kept your promise." Jim told Sam, licking his lips.

"Yeah." She said, unscrewing the cap on her water bottle so she could pour some over his head and give him one last drink. Jim closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of the cool water running down his face. "Thanks for doing this." She told him. _Thanks for not making us watch you die._ She thought. She screwed the cap back on the water bottle and left it there for him before rejoining the group.

Sam didn't sleep a wink for the rest of the trip.

…

It was dusk by the time they reached the CDC. Now that they were in the heavily walker-infested city, everyone was much more cautious while exiting their vehicles. Sam glanced around as she climbed out the truck and grabbed her bow while Daryl grabbed his crossbow. They were looking at a massacre. Dead bodies were everywhere—both military and civilian. It was obvious the army had tried to make a stand there, but they had been overrun by walkers. At least there didn't seem to be any 'live' walkers still in the area, and the CDC building several yards away still looked untouched, but you never knew… The scene of rotting corpses and buzzing flies wasn't very welcoming or encouraging, but still, they were there now. They had to try.

"All right, everybody. Keep moving." Shane whispered as they all gathered together and began cautiously making their way through. He and Rick were taking point, leading the way. "Stay quiet. Let's go."

Several people began coughing from the overpowering stench of the rotting corpses and had to cover their noses and mouth. Sam tied her bandana over her face so she could keep both hands free in case she needed they needed to fight. It made her look like a bandit from the wild west, but it was effective. The only one who seemed to have any immunity to the horrible smell was Daryl, who had his hands full with his crossbow and a shotgun. Glenn groaned, trying not to be sick. They all were.

"Okay, keep moving." Rick urged everyone.

"Stay together." Shane told them.

"Keep moving. Come on." Rick said.

"Shh." Shane hushed the others when he heard some of them chattering, complaining about the smell.

"Keep it together, come on." Shane continued to encourage the others as they pushed forward.

"We're almost there, baby." Lori told Carl. "Almost there."

On the bright side, once they reached the doors, they had some space from all the flies and rotting corpses. On the downside, the doors were being blocked by metal shutters, preventing them getting in.

Shane and Rick rattled one of the shutters, trying to move it. It wouldn't budge. They seemed to be locked in place. Shane tried banging on the shutter to see if he could get through to anybody who might be inside.

"There's no body here." T-Dog said, shaking his head. Another dead end.

"Then why are these shutters down?" Rick asked.

"Maybe they're automatic?" Sam suggested. The building looked completely deserted from what she could see from the outside.

"Walkers!" Daryl shouted, alerting everyone to the approaching danger that was sneaking up on the from behind. The children let out muffled cries and whimpers of fear and alarm, but Daryl acted quickly, taking it out with an arrow to the head before anyone else even had a chance to react. "You led us into a _graveyard!"_ He sneered accusingly at Rick.

"He made a call." Shane told him.

_"It was the wrong damn call!"_ Daryl retorted hotly.

"Just shut up, you hear me? _Shut up. Shut up!"_ Shane shouted at the angry redneck, giving him a shove back.

"Shh! You're the loudest one of all!" Sam whisper-yelled at him. "This argument is _not _helping. Do you wanna wake whole freaking neighborhood_!_?"

"Rick, this is a dead end." Shane continued more calmly, pointedly ignoring her, as he walked back over to Rick.

"Where are we gonna go?" Carol asked, trembling, as she held her daughter close.

"Do you hear me?" Shane asked Rick. "No blame."

"Look, whatever we're gonna do, we should do it now, before it gets any darker." Sam said.

"They're right." Lori said, referring to Carol and Sam. "We can't be here, this close to the city, after dark."

"Fort Benning, Rick—still an option." Shane said.

"On what?" Lori asked skeptically. "No food, no fuel. That's 100 miles."

"125." Glenn interjected. "I checked the map."

"Screw that." Sam said, glancing around to see what other options they might have in the immediate vicinity. They had barely managed to make it here. "We'd be better off taking our chances hiding in the basement of another building."

"Forget Fort Benning." Lori told Shane. "We need answers _tonight, now._"

"We'll think of _something._" Rick said emphatically, trying to keep everyone calm as the children started to cry.

"Come on, let's go." Shane said, turning usher everyone back to the cars.

"Let's get out of here." T-Dog said.

"Let's go, please." Shane said to Rick. If he didn't come, then it would be harder to convince Lori and Carl. Rick didn't move. He just kept staring at those stupid doors. "All right, everybody back to the cars." Shane said, turning away. "Let's go, move."

"The camera." Rick called out suddenly, causing the rest of the group to stop. "It moved."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, furrowing her brow.

Daryl glanced at her. She wasn't thinking of going back, was she?

"You imagined it." Dale told Rick, not wanting to get his own hopes up.

"It moved." Rick insisted. He knew what he saw. "It moved."

"Rick, it is dead, man. It's an automated device. It's gears, okay?" Shane told him, moving back to his friend, trying to convince him to see reason. "They're just winding down, now come on. Look around this place. It's dead, okay? _It's dead._ _You need to let it go, Rick_."

But Rick wasn't ready to give up yet. He ran forward and banged on the shutter again.

"Rick, there's nobody in there!" Lori shouted anxiously.

"I know you're in there. I _know_ you can hear me." Rick said, staring up into the camera, while Shane yelled at the others to get back to the cars, but as much as they wanted to get the heck out of dodge, many were hesitant to leave Rick behind. Besides, they had more walkers to deal with first. "_Please, we're desperate._ Please help us. We have women, children," Rick continued pleading, desperate to get help for his family, "no food, hardly any gas left."

"Rick." Lori said, running back to him. "There's nobody here." She told him, desperate to convince him to give up and leave with them.

"We have no where else to go." Rick continued, ignoring her, as he pounded on the shutter again.

"Keep your eyes open." Shane instructed the others. As more walkers began to approach them.

"If you don't let us in, _you're killing us!"_ Rick yelled at the camera as he continued to bang on the shutter. _"Please!"_

"Come on, buddy, let's go." Shane said, grabbing Rick from behind so he could drag him away by force. "Let's go."

_"Please, help us." _Rick continued to begas they dragged him away. He was becoming hysterical. _"You're killing us! You're killing us! You're killing us! You're killing u—"_

_CLANG._

Everyone, including Rick, suddenly froze and turned to look back at the building when the metal shutter suddenly began to rise, bathing them all in a bright, white light. The door was open.

And then the light faded. The only thing illuminating the inside of the building now was the pale light of the moon.

"Daryl, Sam, you two cover the back." Shane ordered as they quickly began filing into the building with Rick and himself in the lead. Sam and Daryl kept to the rear of the group, guarding the doors while they made sure every last person got inside safely. The armed men took up positions on the outside of the group, keeping the women and children protected in the center. Sam glanced and Daryl, and he nodded at her. They closed the glass doors behind them to keep the walkers out.

"Hello?" Rick called out. The only answer he received was his own voice echoing back at him. The place seemed to be completely empty.

"Watch for walkers." Dale reminded everyone. You could never be sure what was lurking in the shadows until it jumped out at you.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar voice called out.

_CLICK._

They all instinctively raised their weapons again upon hearing the sound of a gun being cocked and glanced in the direction the voice had come from. A man was standing in the shadows, holding a military issued semi-automatic rifle.

"Anybody infected?" The man asked.

"One of our group was." Rick replied, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat at the memory of Jim. "He didn't make it."

"Why are you here? What do you want?" The blonde man asked, stepping into the light.

"A chance." Rick replied.

"That's asking an awful lot these days." The blonde man replied.

"I know." Rick said.

There was a moment of silence as the blonde man scanned the group, taking in each and everyone of their tired and desperate faces. For a moment, Sam wasn't sure his verdict for them was going to be, but then he spoke again.

"You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission." He said.

Sam bit her lip.

"We can do that." Rick said, relieved he had decided to accept them.

The blonde man lowered his gun.

"You got stuff to bring in, you do it now." He told them. "Once this door closes, it stays closed."

They didn't need to be told twice. Rick, Shane, Daryl, Glenn, and Sam quickly retrieved everyone's bags as quietly as possible, doing their best to avoid any walkers roaming around outside, while Dale and T-Dog held the doors open for them and kept guard in case they needed some cover fire. Once they were back inside and the glass doors were shut, their host walked over to a control panel on the wall and swiped his keycard.

BEEP.

"Vi, seal the main entrance." He ordered into the speaker on the panel. "Kill the power up here."

The group watched as the metal shutter lowered itself back in place with a loud clang.

"Rick Grimes." Rick said, offering his hand to the man who had just saved them. The man glanced at his hand.

"Dr. Edwin Jenner." He replied.


	10. Chapter 10

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Powdered Eggs**

* * *

It was quiet in the elevator ride down, too quiet. Sam began humming 'The Girl From Ipanema', a stereotypical elevator song, in an attempt to lighten the mood. All she got in return for her trouble were several confused and concerned glances the other members of their group. They were all too tired and world-weary to make the proper connection. The only one who seemed to be even the slightest bit amused by her little display of tongue-in-cheek humor was Daryl.

"Pfft." He laughed softly, suppressing a smirk, as he looked away, pretending to be interested in the shiny, polished-metal walls of the elevator. He shook his head before turning his attention back to Jenner. "Doctors always go around packing heat like that?" He asked. He had been wondering about that gun for awhile now.

"There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself." Dr. Jenner replied calmly, glancing back at them. "But you look harmless enough. Except you." He said with a slight smile, nodding at Carl. "I'll have to keep my eye on you." He teased, earning a small, slight embarrassed but impish smile from the boy. Jenner let out a soft chuckle. He never thought he'd see another child again.

…

"Are we underground?" Carol asked nervously as Jenner led them through a white-washed corridor with walls that appeared to be made of large concrete bricks. There didn't seem to be windows in any of the open rooms the passed.

"Are you claustrophobic?" Jenner asked.

"A little." She replied tentatively.

"Try not to think about it." He replied as they came to a large, dark room. "Vi, bring up the lights in the big room." Jenner called out.

Sam could hear the familiar humming, whirring, and beeping of computers as the lights flashed on overhead. Apparently 'the big room' was some kind of command center, from the look of it. She found the emptiness of it kind of eerie… Was Jenner the only one there?

"Welcome to Zone 5." Jenner told them before pressing forward again, leading them further in.

"Where is everybody? The other doctors, the staff?" Rick asked. Jenner stopped and turned to face them.

"I'm it." Jenner told him. "It's just me here."

"What about the person you were speaking with?" Lori asked. "Vi?"

"Vi, say hello to our guests." Jenner commanded to his unseen partner. "Tell them… 'welcome'."

"Hello, guests. Welcome." A computer generated voice echoed throughout the room in response.

"Of course, 'Vi', for V.I.—_Virtual Intelligence_. It's a computer." Sam said, stating the obvious, as she let out a sigh in disappointment.

"I'm all that's left." Jenner said again. "I'm sorry."

…

"Mmf." Sam grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut, while she very pointedly looked away from the needle in Dr. Jenner's hand as it pierced her skin and slid into her vein. She, Andrea, and Jacqui were the only left who still needed to let Jenner take a sample of their blood. He had taken them into some kind of lecture room for that. Guess he didn't want them messing up any of the labs.

"What's the matter?" Jenner asked.

"You scared of needles?" Daryl taunted her, smirking slightly. It was laughable to think that someone who could face down a gang and take out walkers without flinching was afraid of a little needle prick.

"_No_. I just hate watching them go in and out." She replied tartly, frowning in annoyance as she glanced at him. "It looks freaky."

"Not nearly half as freaky as some of the other things we've seen." T-Dog mumbled under his breath.

"You're done." Jenner told her. He had already removed the needle and was writing her name on the vile. "Next."

Sam vacated the chair and joined the others in the seating area across the room while Andrea sat down in front of Jenner to take her turn. Jenner prepared a new needle and vial for her.

"Name?" He asked.

"Andrea." She replied as he inserted the needle into her arm. "What's the point? If we were infected, we'd all be running a fever."

"I've already broken every rule in the book by letting you in here. Let me just at least be thorough. All done." Jenner replied as he finished taking the sample and started labeling her vial.

Andrea sighed tiredly as she stood and turned to join the others, but her knees started to buckle, and Jacqui had to help her catch her balance before she fell.

"Are you okay?" Jenner asked Andrea.

"She hasn't eaten in days." Jacqui replied for her. "None of us have."

Jenner glanced off to the side, looking thoughtful.

…

"Hahaha!" Sam giggled gleefully, laughing joyfully along with the others seated around the dinner table. To their immense relief and amazement, not only did the CDC's cafeteria have an unbelievable amount of edible food still left in it, but there was also plenty of alcohol.

"You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner." Dale said as he finished pouring some red into Lori's glass and handed it to her.

"And France." Sam chimed in, raising hers for a top-up. "I have a lot of French in me."

"I think you have a lot of _Italian_ in you now." Dale said, smiling, as he refilled her wineglass more of the nice pino noir she had picked out in addition to the red and white that was out on the table . This earned quite a few more laughs from the others.

"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then." Lori replied, placing a hand over her son's cup to make sure they didn't pour him any.

"My parents used to let me have a little sip from their glasses at meals when I was little." Sam said, taking a sip. "It's a Tremble family tradition. Supposedly it helps build up a tolerance?" She added, grinning. Whether that was really true or not, she _had_ managed to win a drinking contest or two against some of her college friends.

"That explains a lot." Daryl remarked, smirking.

"Ah!" Sam huffed indignantly, feigning offense, as she tried and failed miserably to throw her paper napkin at him in revenge.

"You're a violent drunk, aren't you?" Daryl teased.

"Only when you piss me off." She retorted, smirking. If anything, she was happy and mischievous drunk.

"How old are you, anyway?" Lori asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She looked barely old enough to be in college.

"Twenty-three. Why?" Sam replied, raising an eyebrow back.

"What's it gonna hurt? Come on." Rick said, clearly in a very good mood. Just one sip wasn't going to hurt. "Come on."

Dale laughed at the look Lori was giving her husband. She clearly thought it was Rick's glass of wine speaking.

"What?" Rick asked, smiling.

The others laughed, and Lori finally relented, allowing Dale to serve her twelve-year-old son a little bit of wine.

"Hey!" T-Dog cheered as Dale took the boy's cup and poured a little red in for him.

"There you are, young lad." Dale said, handing it back to Carl. They all watched while he took a sip. Waiting to see his reaction.

"Eww!" He exclaimed, grimacing in disgust, which naturally made all the adults who loved it crack up laughing.

"That's my boy." Lori said, patting him on the back. "That's my boy. Good boy."

"Yuck." Carl said, sticking out his tongue, as his mother poured the rest of the wine from his cup into hers. "That tastes nasty."

"More for us, then." Sam quipped, smiling.

"Mm. I hear that." T-Dog said, grinning.

"Well, just stick to soda pop there, bud." Shane told the boy as the laughter finally stated to die down.

"Not you, Glenn." Daryl said, pouring himself some more Southern Comfort.

"What?" Glenn said, slightly startled to suddenly find himself the center off attention.

"Keep drinkin', little man. I wanna see how red your face can get." Daryl told the Asian boy, eliciting more laughs from the group.

"Oh-ho-ho!" T-Dog laughed at the challenge. He couldn't wait to see how this turned out.

CLINK. CLINK. CLINK.

Rick tapped his wineglass with his knife to get everyone's attention.

"It seems to me we haven't thanked out host properly." Rick said, standing up to address the rest of the table.

"He is more than just our host." T-Dog said, raising his glass in salute to Dr. Jenner, who had been sitting quietly on the sidelines the whole time, having already had his supper earlier in the evening.

"Hear! Hear!" Dale cheered, grinning, as they all raised their glasses, even the children.

"Here's to you, Doc." Sam toasted.

"Booyah!" Daryl shouted enthusiastically as he raised his nearly empty bottle of SoCo, causing the others to chuckle.

"Booyah!" T-Dog agreed, smiling, as they all tapped glasses together to finish the toast, filling the room with the sound of clinking glasses.

"So, when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, Doc?" Shane asked abruptly, ruining the moment. "All the, uh, the other doctors… that were s'posed to be figurin' out what happened, where are they?" He asked as silence fell over the table.

"We're celebrating, Shane." Rick said, furrowing his brow slightly in disapproval, as he lowered himself back into his seat. "Don't need to do this now."

"Whoa, wait a second. This is why we're here, right?" Shane said, not to be deterred. "This was your move—supposed to find all the answers. Instead, we—" He chuckled derisively. "We found him." He said, pointing at Jenner. "We found one man. _Why?"_

Sam glanced between Shane, Rick, and Jenner. It was a reasonable question, got she got the impression Shane was saying it just as much out of bitterness that Rick's plan had actually succeeded in finding them food in shelter, when he had been pushing Fort Benning so hard, as he was for the good of the group.

"Well… when things got bad, a lot of people just… left, went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted." Jenner explained.

"Every last one?" Shane asked skeptically. He found that hard to believe.

"No." Jenner replied. "Many couldn't face walking out the door. They… _opted out._ There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time." He finished softly. A heavy silence settled over the room.

Sam closed her eyes. It must have been. It was bad enough having to watch people you knew and worked with committing suicide all around you, but if Jenner had been left alone all by himself, then it also meant that he had to have been the one who cleared the bodies away and up any blood that might have been spilt. She didn't envy Jenner for being stuck here all alone after that. It must have been hellish.

Daryl noticed Sam was absentmindedly rubbing her tattooed wrists under the table. Something about that unnerved him, made him feel concerned.

"You didn't leave." Andrea pointed out, talking to Jenner. "Why?"

"I just kept working, hoping to do some good." He replied somberly.

"Dude, you are _such_ a buzzkill, man." Glenn told Shane, wishing he had kept his mouth shut. Couldn't he have waited until later to ask such a depressing question instead of ruining what had felt like their first real meal in ages?

…

"Most of the facility is powered down," Jenner told them as he led them down another hallway once they had finished eating, "including housing, so you'll have to make do here." It was just a section of small rooms where employees could go to rest in between shifts and a locker room, nothing major. "The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like. There's a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy. Just don't plug in the video games, okay? Or anything that draws power." He told Carl and Sophia. "The same applies—if you shower, go easy on the hot water." Jenner told the adults, pointing to the different locker rooms on both sides of the hall, before walking off.

"Hot water?" Glenn asked. His face lit up like it was Christmas morning.

"That's what the man said." T-Dog replied, grinning, as they both started laughing and rushed off to get a taste.

"Thank you, God." Sam said dramatically, throwing her head back, as she raised her hands towards heaven, before following the boys' lead and heading into the women's showers without another moment of hesitation, followed close behind by Carol and Sophia, who looked equally excited.

…

Sam moaned blissfully in her shower stall as the hot water rolled down her head, shoulders, and back, soothing her tired and aching muscles. Sam ahd been roughing it for so long, that it had been ages since she'd had a real shower of _any _kind. She'd mostly been bathing in lakes and rivers for lake of proper facilities. Just walking around in nature butt-naked, hoping nobody saw? Talk about awkward.

"Heaven, I'm in heaven~" She began to happily, not caring that she was off tune, especially since it made Sophia giggle. She didn't mind playing the clown every now and then. It was good to hear the kid laughing after all the crying she had been doing earlier.

"What? You've never heard that song before?" Sam asked, smiling, as she lathered up her washcloth with the shower gel from the dispenser mounted on the wall. "It's Sinatra's 'Cheek to Cheek'."

"Nope." Sophia said, giggling from over in her stall.

"What about you, Carol?" Sam called out. "You a Sinatra fan?"

"I don't think I've heard that one." Carol replied, smiling slightly in her stall. She was glad to hear her daughter laughing again.

"Well, how about I teach it to you, then?" Sam asked pleasantly. "Would you like to hear the rest, Sophia?"

Sophia nodded, but then remembered they couldn't see.

"Yes." Sophia replied out loud.

"Okay, then. Here we go." Sam said, taking a breath before launching into a somewhat off-kilter but amusing rendition of the classic song. "Heaven, I'm in heaven~" She sang. "And my heart beats… So that I can hardly speak~ And I seem to find… The happiness I seek… When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek~"

…

While Carol and Sophia headed for the rec room so she could play with Carl for a little while before 'bedtime', Sam decided to head back to the cafeteria for some more booze. Make no mistake, Sam might like to drink, but she wasn't an addict or a drunk. She just wasn't quite ready to stop celebrating yet.

"Looks like we had the same idea." Daryl said when she entered the room. He had apparently decided to go back and finish off that bottle of SoCo rather than rushing off to the showers like everyone else.

"Looks like." She said, sitting down at the table as he poured some into a glass for her. "Thanks."

They sat there in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, sipping spiced alcohol. Sam smiled absently, enjoying the warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through her body because of it.

"I've been wondering…" Daryl said, breaking the silence. "What's the story behind those tattoos?"

Sam glanced at her wrist.

"I don't want to talk about it." She replied firmly, avoiding his gaze, as she furrowed her brow and took another sip of alcohol. "Let's talk about something else." She said, trying to change the subject.

Daryl stared at her for a moment longer before deciding to let it slide. He could tell he wasn't going to get anything more out her, and he didn't want to force it. He had things he'd rather not talk about, too. Especially with someone he'd only known for about four days.

"What's your favorite drink?" He asked. She let out a wry chuckle.

"Rusty nail." Sam replied, smirking.

"Never had one." Daryl replied. The somewhat pitying look she gave him upon hearing that kind of pissed him off.

"I'd make one for you if we had the ingredients." She said. "But Jenner seems to be fresh out of Scotch and Drambuie."

"Drambuie?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's a sweet, golden-colored liqueur made from malt whiskey, honey, herbs, and spices." She explained, taking another sip of SoCo. "And it's 80-proof. It is produced in Scotland, and its name derives from the Scottish-Gaelic phrase _an dram buidheach_, 'the drink that satisfies'."

"What did you do, memorize the back of the label?" Daryl asked, scoffing. It didn't sound half bad, actually.

"Nope. My brother and I both learned everything we know about liquor, fishing, and hunting from my grandpa." She replied, smiling. "You probably would've liked him. He was a 'good ol' boy'. He also taught us the two family mottos."

"Yeah? And what might they be?" Daryl asked, giving her a refill.

"First, 'God helps those who help themselves', and second, 'Do no harm, but take no shit neither.'" She replied with a mischievous gleam in her eye. Daryl smirked.

"You're right." He said, nodding. "I like that 'take no shit' part."

They laughed and shared another drink.

…

"Ughh…" Sam groaned as she trudged back into the cafeteria the next morning. Hangover level: the basic. She felt like she had suddenly come down with the common cold, but she knew she'd be fine if she could get her hands on some headache medicine and a glass of water. "What's for breakfast?" She asked groggily. It looked like pretty much everyone else had already beat her there.

"Eggs." T-Dog announced, looking entirely too cheerful, considering how early it was and how much alcohol he had also consumed at dinner. Sam was pretty sure he was just experiencing what was known as a 'false dawn'. T-Dog might seem fine now, but he'd be feeling like a truck hit him later. "Powdered, but—I do 'em _good._" He said confidently as he carried the skillet over to the table so he could serve everyone. "I bet you can't tell."

A moan of pure agony from Glenn let Sam know she wasn't the only one suffering from a hangover that morning. Glenn's hangover level: apocalypse.

"Protein helps the hangover." T-Dog told the moaning Glenn, giving him a generous portion.  
"And water." Sam added, holding her head in her hands, while T-Dog dished some out for her too. "Though it usually works better if you drink it the night before."

"Where'd all this come from?" Rick asked, also looking fairly hungover.

"Jenner." Lori replied.

"Could you help me, please?" Rick asked her, handing over a bottle of some kind of anti-hangover medicine so she could open it for him.

"He thought we could use it." Lori continued to explain as she unscrewed the cap for him.

"Thank you." He said when she handed the open bottle back.

"He thought we could use it. Some of us, at least." She said, glancing between her husband and Glenn.

"He was right." Sam said. "Pass that over here when you're done with it, will you?"

"Ughhhh." Glenn groaned miserably while Jacqui rubbed soothing circles on his back, helping him stay upright in his chair. "Don't ever, ever, ever let me drink again."

"Hey." Shane greeted everyone as he walked in.

"Hey." Rick said. "Feel as bad as I do?"

"Worse." Shane replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee before joining them at the table.

"The hell happened to you?" T-Dog asked, concerned when he noticed some angry red scratches on him. "Your neck?"

"I must have done it in my sleep." Shane said.

"Never seen you do that before." Rick said, blinking.

"Me neither." Shane replied, glancing at Lori, who pointedly ignored him. "Not like me at all."

Sam glanced between the two of them, wondering what was going on, and if she was the only one seeing this. No one else seemed to have noticed whatever weirdness was going on between them. Maybe it was just the irritably from her hangover talking. Shane cleared his throat uncomfortably when he noticed Sam's staring.

"Morning." Jenner greeted everyone as he walked in.

"Hey, Doc." Rick and Shane returned his greeting just as Daryl finally joined them. Sam narrowed her eyes when she noticed that he didn't seem to be even the slightest bit hungover despite having had just as much as her to drink the previous evening, if not more. Now that just wasn't fair. Was the man invincible?

"Doctor, I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing—" Dale began tentatively, not wanting to seem rude.

"But you will anyway." Jenner concluded accurately as he poured himself some coffee.

"We didn't come here for the eggs." Andrea finished."


	11. Chapter 11

I own nothing but my OC.

(Warning: This one's a bit longer since it's a season finale.)

* * *

**Chapter 11: TS-19**

* * *

They all followed Jenner into the big room that they had seen yesterday. Jenner hit a key on one of the computer keyboards.

BEEP.

"Give me a playback of TS-19." Jenner said.

_"Playback of TS-19."_ Vi announced as a huge screen on the back wall lit up and began loading the data from the archive onto the display.

"Few people ever got a chance to see this." Jenner told them. "Very few."

Sam watched with the others as images of MRI scans of a human head popped up on the screen.

"Is that a brain?" Carl asked.

"An extraordinary one." Jenner replied, smiling, though it only lasted for a brief moment. "Not that it matters in the end."

Sam glanced at Jenner. He knew this person, she realized. She could tell from the look in his eyes.

"Take us in for E.I.V." Jenner told Vi.

_"Enhanced Internal View."_ Vi announced, rotating the image to show the test subject's profile, and zooming in until the only image on the screen was a mass of flashing neurons and synapses. Sam thought it was actually pretty beautiful to watch.

"What are those lights?" Shane asked. Daryl glanced at Jenner too, waiting to hear the answer.

"It's a person's life—experiences, memories. It's everything." Jenner replied. "Somewhere, in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you—the thing that makes you unique and human.

"You don't make sense, ever?" Daryl asked.

"Those are synapses. Electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages." Jenner explained patiently. "They determine everything a person says, does, or thinks from the moment of birth… to the moment of death."

"Death? That's what this is, a vigil?" Rick asked, stepping forward.

"Yes." Jenner said. "Or r-rather, the playback of the vigil."

"This person died? Who?" Andrea asked.

"Test subject 19." Jenner replied. "Someone who was bitten and infected… and volunteered to have us record the process. Vi, scan forward to the first event."

Sam brought a hand up to cover her mouth. She was about to see exactly what had happened to people like her mother and Jim and Amy.

"Scanning to first event." Vi announced as the computers beeped and the image on the screen changed again, zooming back out, while the recorded footage fast forwarded. An ugly darkness was now invading the brain, killing off the beautiful dancing lights.

"What is _that_?" Glenn asked as they all stared at the screen, slightly stunned.

"The virus." Sam said, taking an educated guess. Jenner nodded.

"It invades the brain like meningitis." He explained as the virus continued to spread like wildfire on the screen before them. "The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs."

Sam had to close her eyes when the body on screen seized one last time before going completely still. She opened her eyes. The brain was now totally dark. _'Cessation of all out put signals'_ and _'subject deceased'_ flashed on the screen.

"Then death." Jenner said quietly, looking down. "Everything you ever were or ever will be… gone."

Daryl glanced at Sam when he heard her take a deep, shaky breath, and saw her biting her knuckle while she tried no to let it get to her. This must all be hitting a bit too close to home for her. Her mother had died over a month ago, but the pain of loss she had suffered was still fresh enough to hurt. It reminded her how alone she was now. The rest of her family was gone.

"Is that what happened to Jim?" Sophia asked innocently.

"Yes." Carol replied softly, putting a comforting arm around her daughter.

Jacqui bowed her head as tears silent tears streamed down her face. Andrea sniffed as her eyes began to water, trying desperately not to cry.

"She lost somebody two days ago." Lori explained when she saw Jenner looking. "Her sister."

"I lost somebody, too. I know how devastating it can be." Jenner told Andrea. His words were a bit dry, but genuinely sympathetic.

"Is the process the same for someone who wasn't bitten?" Sam asked, earning herself a somewhat startled look from Jenner.

"My father and brother… they caught the virus early, while it was still airborne." She explained. "I rushed home from college when I heard, but by the time I arrived, they had already been put into quarantine. They wouldn't let anyone in to see them."

Daryl bowed his head. So that's what she had meant when she had mentioned how she couldn't do anything for her brother when she offered to help look for Merle…

"Oh, yes… The process is virtually the same, just a bit slower." Jenner replied, blinking, as he turned away, glancing back at the screen. "Vi, scan forward to the second event."

_"Scanning to second event."_

"The resurrection times vary wildly." Jenner said as fast-forwarded to the next event_._ "We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute… seven seconds."

They all watched the screen as a new spark, like a burning ember, flickered to life and a small portion of the lower part of the brain, at the base of the skull, became dimly lit again by these new sparks.

"It restarts the brain?" Lori asked what they were all thinking.

"No, just the brainstem." Jenner replied. "Basically, it gets them up and moving."

"But they're not alive?" Rick said.

"You tell me." Jenner said, gesturing to the image on the screen.

"It's nothing like before." Rick said, shaking his head. "Most of that brain is dark." The portion that was lit up this time was a tiny dot compared to what they had seen before.

"Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the humanpart—that doesn't come back. The _you _part. Just a shell, driven by mindless instinct." Jenner explained.

"So, basically, the lights are on, but nobody's home?" Sam asked.

"Basically." Jenner agreed.

That was a relief, in a way. It meant that after they turned, the people they used to be really didn't exist anymore. They wouldn't suffer psychologically after becoming walkers. They wouldn't be aware of what was happening to them, of what they had become. And now Sam knew for sure that, even if there was some kind of spark of life in there, walkers really weren't human anymore. She didn't have to feel so guilty about the ones she had killed.

"God." Carol gasped when something suddenly shot clean through the brain on screen, killing the newly resurrected walker.

"He shot his patient in the head." Andrea said, glancing at Jenner. "Didn't you?"

"Vi, power down the main screen and the workstation." Jenner said instead of giving her a direct answer.

_"Powering down main screen and workstations."_

"You have no idea what it is, do you?" Andrea asked accusingly.

"It could be microbial," Jenner said, "viral, parasitic, fungal."

"Or the wrath of God?" Jacqui asked shakily.

"There is that." Jenner replied quietly.

"Somebody must know something. Somebody, _somewhere._" Andrea said.

"What about the CDC in New Orleans?" Sam asked.

"There are others, right? Other facilities?" Carol asked.

"There may be some." Jenner replied. "People like me."

"But you don't know? How can you not know?" Rick demanded.

"Everything went down." Jenner explained. "Communications, directives—all of it. I've been in the dark for almost a month."

"The CDC in New Orleans was still running when I left about a month ago." Sam said.

"No. No, I know they went down just a few days before I lost the grid." Jenner told her.

Sam had to sit down after hearing that. That was it. The city, her hometown, officially belonged to the dead now.

"So it's not just here? There's nothing left anywhere?" Andrea asked cynically. "Nothing. That's what you're really saying, right?"

Jenner remained silent, and his silence said it all.

Andrea scoffed. She couldn't believe this.

"Jesus." Jacqui breathed.

"Man, I'm gonna get shit-faced drunk again." Daryl sighed, kneading his brow, as he leaned against one of the workstations.

"Leave some for me." Sam commented glibly despite the grim expression on her face.

"Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you, and I hate to ask one more question, but…" Dale said, crossing the room. "That clock—it's counting down."

Sam raised her head when she heard that and looked in the direction Dale was pointing. He was right. There was a digital clock mounted on the far wall. She hadn't even noticed it until he pointed it out.

"What happens when it reaches zero?" Dale asked.

An excellent question. If Hollywood had taught Sam anything, it was that a countdown like that was rarely ever a good sign. Things tended to explode when that happened. Sam glanced at Jenner, waiting to hear the answer.

"The basement generators—they run out of fuel." Jenner replied before walking away, suddenly clamming up.

Okay, now Sam was really concerned. He was clearly hiding something.

"And then?" Rick asked, but Jenner just kept walking, ignoring the question.

"Vi, what happens when the power runs out?" Sam asked, hoping it could recognize the voice of someone other than Jenner.

_"When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur."_ Vi informed them.

"Shit." Sam cursed lowly. _That _couldn't be good.

…

While Rick, Shane, T-Dog, and Glenn ran off to check the generators, and the others went back to their rooms to do whatever, Daryl and Sam returned to the cafeteria. Daryl headed straight for the booze, but Sam had different plans.

"What are you doin'?" He asked when he saw that she had begun to raid the food cabinets, pulling out anything that didn't rely on refrigeration to keep from spoiling. She seemed almost frantic.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm raiding the cabinets and pantry!" She retorted shortly, looking around for some bag to put it all in.

_"Why?"_ Daryl asked, not appreciating the attitude at the moment. Sam stopped an stared at him.

_"Why?_ Haven't you ever seen _The Andromeda Strain_?" She asked incredulously. "I don't know exactly what 'facility-wide decontamination' involves here, but I've seen this movie before, and it did _not _end well for the people still inside of the special disease control center when _they_ triggered the process." She explained quickly. "So if you need to do any packing, I suggest you do it now, because I guarantee we're all gonna have to bug outta here, and soon."

"I think you're letting yourself get a little too paranoid, there." Daryl replied skeptically. He wasn't going to freak out a just because something bad happened in a _movie_. "Why don't you just calm down and have yourself a drink."

"I _am_ calm." She snapped, annoyed that he wasn't taking this seriously. "And just because I'm acting 'paranoid' doesn't mean I'm not right!" She huffed, marching past him so she could go get her backpack.

Daryl raised an eyebrow as he watched her go.

"Calm my ass." He remarked, taking a swig of SoCo.

…

"Oh, crap." Sam said, pausing in her packing to glance up at the ceiling of her room, when she realized she could no longer hear the hum of the air conditioner. The lights were the next to go. She quickly finished cramming everything into her backpack, zipped it shut, grabbed her bow, and clipped her gun and knife back onto her belt. Time to go.

"Why is the air off? And the lights in our room?" She heard Carol ask as she stepped out into the hall. Dale, Lori, and Andrea were poking their heads out of their rooms as well. Jenner was there. He had changed out of the rumpled, casual clothes he had on earlier into a nicer shirt, tie, and black slacks. He was even wearing a white lab coat. To others he might look like he was dressed for work, but Sam had the distinct feeling he had changed so he'd look nice for his own funeral.

"What's goin' on?" Daryl asked as he leaned out the door to his own room, and Jacqui stepped out of hers. "Why is everything turned off?"

"Energy use is begin prioritized." Jenner explained calmly as he swiped Daryl's bottle of Southern Comfort, and they all started following him, clearly wanting answers.

"Air isn't a priority?" Dale asked him. "And lights." Now even the emergency lights in the hallway had gone out.

"It's not up to me." Jenner replied. "Zone 5 is shutting itself down."

"Hey! Hey, what the hell's that mean?" Daryl demanded.

"It means it's time to go." Sam said seriously. The others all glanced at her when they heard those ominous words and saw that she was already completely ready to bolt out the door. They quickly turned back to Jenner and hurried after him.

"Hey, man, I'm talkin' to you." Daryl said, beginning to lose his patience with the tight-lipped scientist. Did this mean Sam was right? "What do you mean it's shuttin' itself down? How can a building do anything?"

"You'd be surprised." Jenner told him.

"It'll bet it's all being run by a supercomputer, Vi. It's probably been preprogrammed to shut itself down once specific conditions are met." Sam said, earning herself a questioning glance from Daryl and the others, clearly wondering how she could know all that.

"My dad was an engineer." She explained simply.

"Rick?" Lori called out, rushing to the side of the catwalk they were on, when she noticed her husband and the others were coming back up from their trip to the basement.

"Jenner, what's happening?" Rick demanded, joining them as they descended the stairs, trying to stay calm after what they had just seen.

"The system is dropping all the nonessentials uses of power." Jenner informed him as they all walked back into the big room. "It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule." Jenner paused to take a swig from the bottle of alcohol in his hand. He held it out to Daryl, who snatched it back.

"Guys, seriously, we _need_ to go." Sam said urgently. Why couldn't they just trust her on this?

"It was the French." Jenner said suddenly to recapture their attention.

"What?" Andrea asked as they all stared at him.

Sam wanted to bang her head against a wall. Couldn't they see that time was running out_!_? They were in the room with the clock, for Christ's sake!

"They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know." Jenner replied. "While out people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. They thought they were close to a solution."

"What happened?" Jacqui asked.

"The same thing that's happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice." Jenner told her. "The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?"

"Let me tell you—" Shane started, heading straight for Jenner, until Rick grabbed him.

"—To hell with it, Shane. I don't even care." Rick said, cutting him off, before turning back to the others. "Sam's right. Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff. We're getting outta here, _now!"_ He told them, raising his voice, when nobody moved at first.

"Oh, okay." Jacqui said nervously, a little startled, as she turned to head back to the rooms with the others.

And then an alarm started blaring.

"What's that?" Shane and Sam asked at the same time. That was _never_ a good sign.

"What's that?" Carl asked his dad nervously.

_"30 minutes to decontamination."_ Vi reported as the big screen lit up again with a larger version of the countdown clock.

_"Dock what's goin' on here!_?" Daryl demanded as Jenner swiped his ID card on a control panel by one of the work stations.

"Everybody, y'all heard Rick!" Shane shouted. "Get your stuff, and let's go!"

"Let's go." T-Dog said, waving for everybody to move.

"Come on!" Glenn shouted, but before they could leave, a metal barrier suddenly slid up, blocking the main exit off.

_"No."_ Sam gasped, glancing back at Jenner. _He didn't…_

"Did you just lock us in?" Glenn asked Jenner what she was thinking. Jenner didn't answer. He just walked over to one of the computers and sat down in front of it. "He just locked us in!"

"We've hit the 30-minute window. I am recording." Jenner said, looking into the camera on the computer.

"Carl." Lori called out as she and the others came running back, carrying everyone's bags.

"Mom!" Carl yelled, running over to her. They were all stuck in there.

Daryl glared at Jenner.

_"You son of a bitch."_ He growled, making a run for the crazy bastard.

"No!" Sam yelled.

"Shane!" Rick shouted, pointing for his friend to stop him since he was closest.

_"You locked us in here!"_ Daryl roared angrily, raising the glass bottle in his hand as he grabbed Jenner by the back of his collar, preparing to mash it against his skull. Jenner didn't even flinch. He had given up completely.

_"Daryl, don't!"_ Sam shouted as she helped Shane pull him away from the scientist before any damage could be done.

_"You lying—"_ Daryl cursed the man as he continued to resist.

_"No! No! No! No!"_ Shane shouted as he started to get away from them.

T-Dog ran over to help Shane and Sam, seeing that even the two of them were having a hard time restraining the angry redneck.

"Wait, no!" T-Dog shouted at Daryl. "Don't do it."

"We _need_ him!" Sam yelled. He was the only one who knew how to open the door!

"Hey, Jenner, open that door now." Rick ordered sternly as he stalked over to the scientist.

"There's no point. Everything topside is locked down." Jenner told him. "The emergency exits are sealed."

"Well, open the damn things!" Daryl snapped.

"That's not something I control. The computers do." Jenner replied. "I told you, once that front door closed, it wouldn't open again. You heard me say that."

"You failed to mention we were walking into a death trap." Sam retorted bluntly, clenching her fists.

"It's better this way." Jenner said.

_"What is?_ What happens in 28 minutes?" Rick asked Jenner, glancing at the clock.

Jenner didn't reply, he just turned and started typing at his computer.

Shane hit him on the shoulder, causing the scientist to jump and look back at them.

"What happens in 28 minutes_!_?" Rick demanded.

_"Come on!"_ Daryl said.

_"You know what this place is!_?" Jenner shouted at them, finally snapping. _"We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out, ever!"_ They stared at Jenner in stunned silence while he took a moment to collect himself before sitting back down. "In the event of catastrophic power failure—in a terrorist attack, for example—H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

"H.I.T.s?" Rick asked.

"Vi, define." Jenner ordered the computer.

_"H.I.T.s—high-impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and durations than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen at between 5,000° and 6,000° and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired."_

By the time Vi was finished reciting the pre-recorded definition, virtually everyone in the group was visibly shaking. Carol was crying and hugging Sophia, while Rick and Lori held Carl. Daryl glanced at Sam. She had been right all along. She didn't look at all surprised.

"It sets the air on fire." Jenner said calmly. "No pain. An end to sorrow, grief… regret. Everything."

Sam turned and dashed off, trying to find another way out or something to help them bust their way through another wall or a door or something. T-Dog realized what she was up to and went with her.

_"Urrngh!"_ Daryl grunted as he heaved the glass bottle in his hand at the metal barrier that was locking them in out of frustration and anger. _"Open the damn door!"_

"Shane!" Sam called out. Even though she didn't really trust him, he was closest, and she knew he wanted out just as badly as the rest of them.

Shane glanced down and saw that she was holding up an emergency fire axe she had found on one of the walls in the level just below.

"Nng! Catch!" She shouted, grunting from the effort as she threw it up to him. Shane reached out and snatched it from the air, giving her a nod of thanks.

"Outta my way!" He yelled as he ran towards the door with the axe.

_WHAM!_

_WHAM!_

Shane stared swinging that axe with all his might, slamming it into the metal shield. It barely even made a scratch, but he kept it up.

"Daryl!" T-Dog shouted, tossing another axe up at the redneck from below. Daryl caught it easily and joined Shane in his attempts to beat the door down.

_WHAM!_

_WHAM!_

_ WHAM!_

"You should have left well enough alone." Jenner said as he watched Sam and T-Dog run back up to their level and rushed to help Shane and Daryl with the efforts to bust down the door. "It would've been so much easier."

"Easier for _who_?" Lori demanded bitterly.

"All of you." He replied, as if it should have been obvious. "You know what's out there—a short, brutal life and an agonizing death. Your—your sister—what was her name?" He asked, turning to address Andrea.

"Amy." Andrea replied.

"Amy. You know what this does." Jenner said. "You've seen it. Is that really what you want for you wife and son?" He asked Rick.

"I don't want _this._" Rick stated emphatically.

"Can't make a dent." Shane said, panting, as he dropped the axe on the ground and leaned against one of the workstations.

Sam was leaning against a railing, also winded.

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher." Jenner informed them.

"Well, your head ain't!" Daryl shouted, running at Jenner with the axe still in his hands.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Rick shouted as he, Dale, and T-Dog rushed to intercept him."Daryl! _Daryl!_ Just back up! Back up!" He told him while T-Dog managed to wrestle the axe away from him before someone got hurt. Daryl scoffed and went over to lean on the railing next to Sam.

"You _do_ want this." Jenner insisted to Rick. "Last night, you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead."

"What?" Sam said, looking up and glancing between Rick and Lori and Carl, who were huddled together on the floor. Everyone was staring at Rick, speechless.

"What, you really said that?" Shane asked. He couldn't believe this. "After all your big talk?"

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I?" Rick responded, looking at his wife, who was staring up at him in disbelief.

"There is no hope." Jenner said. "There never was."

"There's always hope." Rick said. "Maybe it won't be you, maybe not here, but somebody, somewhere—"

"—What part of 'everything is gone' do you not understand?" Andrea asked them.

"Listen to your friend." Jenner said. "She gets it. This is what takes us down. This is our extinction event."

"You don't know that." Sam stated firmly. There was still a look of determination in her eyes. Daryl walked over and picked up the axe Shane had dropped.

"This isn't right. You can't just keep us here." Carol sobbed as she held onto Sophia.

"One tiny moment—a-a millisecond. No pain." Jenner said, trying to reassure her.

"My daughter doesn't deserve to die like _this."_ Carol told him while they both cried.

"Wouldn't it be kinder, more compassionate to just hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?" Jenner asked, not understanding why they were so desperate to go back out into such an ugly world.

_KA-CLICK_.

The next thing they knew, Shane was cocking one of the shotguns.

"Shane, no!" Rick said, but Shane pushed him aside.

"Stay out of my way!" Shane shouted, aiming the gun at Jenner's head. "Open that door, or I'm gonna blow your head off. _Do you hear me!_?" He screamed. While Lori and Carol, who were sitting right behind him, quickly got up and ushered their children to a safer part of the room.

"Brother, brother, this is not the way." Rick told his friend, trying to calm him down. "You do this, we'll never get out of here."

"Shane, you listen to him." Lori said.

"It's too late." Shane said, breathing heavily as he kept the gun trained on Jenner's head.

"It is _not _too late, and we need still him." Sam said.

"He dies, we all—" Rick started, when Shane abruptly erupted into a furious scream of frustration. "—we all die! Shane!"

_"AAAARRRGGHHHH!"_ Shane roared as he turned the gun away from Jenner at the last second and pulled the trigger, shooting up the row the computers behind him.

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

_"Shane!"_ Rick shouted, grabbing the gun and wrestling it from his friend, while most of the others ducked for cover. Sparks and fragments of plastic and glass were flying everywhere.

"Urngh!" Rick grunted, tearing the shotgun from Shane's hands and knocking him to the ground. For a moment, it looked like Rick was so caught up in the fight, he might beat Shane with the butt of the gun, but he stopped himself at the last moment. "You done now?" Rick asked him, breathing heavily. "_Are you done?"_

"Yeah." Shane replied, panting. "I guess we all are."

Rick shook his head as he turned and walked away, handing to gun to T-Dog for safekeeping. He glanced at the others. They were all looking to him.

Sam ran her hands through her hair, trying to think of something. She didn't know what to do…

Daryl glanced at the axe in his hand. He turned and started walking back to the door as Rick turned back to Jenner.

"I think you're lying." Rick told him.

"What?" Jenner said.

"You're lying. About no hope." Rick said. "If that were true, you'd have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn't. You chose the hard path. Why?"

"It doesn't matter." Jenner said.

"It does matter. It always matters." Rick said. "You stayed when others ran. _Why?"_

"Not because I wanted to." Jenner replied seriously. "I made a promise… to her." He said, pointing at the big screen. "My wife."

Sam closed her eyes. So that's who it was.

"Test subject 19 was your wife?" Lori asked.

"She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no?" Jenner asked, throwing his hands in the air, as Daryl began pounding the metal shield with the axe again. "She was dying. It should've been me on that table. I wouldn't have mattered to anybody. _She_ was a loss to the _world_." Jenner continued. "Hell, she ran this place. I just worked here. In our field, she was an _Einstein._ Me? I-I'm just… Edwin Jenner. She could've done something about this. Not me."

"So, you kept working because you made a promise to your wife? Well, I made a promise to my mother." Sam said, stepping towards Jenner. "I promised her that no matter what happened, I wouldn't give up—that I would do my best not just survive, but _live_. I intend to keep that promise." She finished gravely, hoping her words would get through to him.

"And you've done well to get this far." Jenner replied. "But aren't you tired? Isn't it time to just give up? Your mother is dead, she'll never know."

"_I'd _know." Sam countered sternly. "And I'm just getting started." She added as she turned to walk away, grabbing a discarded axe. "I've not yet begun to fight!" She said, grunting, as she joined Daryl by the door and took another swing at the door. She didn't care if the action was pointless or not, she wasn't going down without a fight either.

"Your wife didn't have a choice." Rick said, stepping closer to Jenner again. "You do. That's—That's all we want—a choice, a chance."

"Let us keep trying as long as we can." Lori pleaded.

Jenner glanced between the two of them and back at Sam and Daryl, who were still swinging away. He sighed.

"I told you topside's locked down. I can't open those." He told them before walking off and entering some sort of combination into the keypad of the same control panel he had used to close the door in the first place. The metal shield retracted with a hiss.

"Come on!" Daryl shouted the second it was open. He reached down the pick up Sam's axe when she dropped it. Might come in handy later.

"Let's go!" Sam shouted as she ran back to get their stuff while everyone else scrambled to get their bags.

"Come on, let's go!" Glenn shouted.

"Come on!"

"Move it, move it!"

_"Come on, let's go!"_ Daryl shouted. Why the hell did these people have to be so damn so slow_!_?

"We're gonna get out of here, Sophia." Carol told her daughter, holding her hand as they ran out with the others.

"There's your chance, take it." Jenner told Rick.

"I'm grateful." Rick replied.

"The day will come when you won't be." Jenner said, pulling Rick close as he shook his hand so he could whisper something in his ear.

"Rick, let's go!" Sam shouted at him as Lori ran back down the ramp to get him.

"Hey, we've got four minutes, left! Come on!" Glenn shouted.

"Let's go. Let's go, Jacqui." T-Dog said, pulling the older woman along.

"No. No, I'm stayin'." Jacqui said, pulling away. "I-I'm staying sweetie."

"But that's insane!" T-Dog told her.

"No, it's completely sane. For the first time in a long time. I'm not endin' up like Jim and Amy."She said, causing the others to pause. "There's no time to argue and no point, not if you want to get out. Just get out. Get out."

"Dog. Come on, man." Shane said, grabbing his arm and giving him a shove towards the door. "Come on! Let's go! Let's go!"

Dale stepped down, staring at Jacqui in disbelief. He glanced at Andrea, who still hadn't moved.

"I'm staying too." Andrea said.

"Andrea, _no._" Dale said, horrified, but she just turned away from him and sat back on the floor. "Just go! Go!" He turned and shouted at the others, shooing them away.

"Come on." Shane said, forcing Rick to turn away.

They had to pull out whatever flashlights they had that were still working as they made their way out through the rest of the dark building, keeping one hand on the railing for balance, as they rushed up the stairs in record time. T-Dog was the first to make it to the front door. Daryl, Sam, and Glenn entered the lobby right behind him. They noticed the metal shutters were still down on the outside.

"Get those doors open!" Shane shouted.

"It doesn't work!" Glenn shouted, panicking when the doors wouldn't budge no matter how hard he tried.

Sam ran over and started trying to pry one open with the crowbar part of her crovel.

"Wait a minute! Wait a minute!" T-Dog exclaimed, running over to the keypad. Maybe he could figure out the combination. "Try it! Try it!" T-Dog shouted. "Try it now!"

"No change!" Sam shouted.

"Daryl!" Shane said as the two of them ran over to some windows on the side. Daryl tossed him an axe, and they both began taking swinging at the glass. They couldn't even scratch it.

"Daryl, look out!" T-Dog shouted as he grabbed on of the chairs from the lobby and ran towards him. Daryl immediately understood his intentions and jumped down as T-Dog jumped up. Shane jumped down too.

"AAAAHH!" T-Dog let out a mighty war cry as he began slamming the chair into the glass. "AAAH! AAAH!" As impressive as his attempt was, the chair just kept bouncing back off the glass without doing any damage.

"Dog, get down! Get down." Shane shouted, grabbing one of the shotguns.

T-Dog immediate jumped down and ran back to watch with the others while Shane approached the glass and raised his gun.

_BANG!_

KA-CLICK.

_BANG!_

"Jesus." Shane said. Two shots at point blank range, and all he managed to do was scratch the surface.

"Shit." Sam cursed. It was even bullet proof.

"The glass won't break?" Sophia asked, on the verge of tears, as her mother grabbed one of the bags and ran towards Rick.

"Rick, I have something that might help." Carol said as she started digging through the bag.

"Carol, I don't think a nail file's gonna do it." Shane said cynically.

"Your first morning at camp," Carol continued, ignoring Shane, "when I washed your uniform, I found this in your pocket." She told Rick, pulling her hand out of the bag. She was holding a grenade.

"Carol, you're a genius." Sam said, grinning, as Rick took the grenade. "Fire in the hole!" She shouted as she turned Carol around and started herding her and her daughter back to safe distance.

"Look out!" Shane shouted at the others as they all ran for cover while Rick went to plant the grenade by the windows.

Rick pulled the pin on the grenade and set down on the window sill.

"Ohhh shiiii—" He said, taking off running as a second or two after realizing he just how damn close he still was to the blast zone.

"Get down!" The others shouted as it exploded behind him, knocking their fearless leader off his feet, as the window finally shattered.

Several walkers were already crossing the lawn when they finished climbing through the broken window. They must have been attracted by the noise. As usual, Shane and Rick took the lead as they made a run for the cars. Shane took out one walker with his shotgun, and Rick took out another with his Python. Sam scalped one with her crovel, and Daryl beheaded one with the axe he was still holding onto. Shane and T-Dog stopped to kill another two while the others ran by before heading for their own vehicles. The Grimes family Glenn climbed into the RV. Carol and Sophia quickly got into their Jeep Cherokee, while Sam and Daryl ran past them to hop in his truck.

"What are they waitin' for, let's go! The building's about to blow!" Daryl said, leaning out the driver's side window, trying to see what the hold up at the front of the line was.

"Daryl, look!" Sam said as she leaned out the passenger's side. He leaned over next to her to see what she was pointing at. "It's Dale and Andrea!"

_HONK! HONK!_

"Shit!" Daryl cursed as soon as he realized what Rick was honking about, pulling Sam back inside and forcing her head down as he ducked behind the dashboard.

The sound of the explosion was deafening. Even though they were several yards away from the building itself, they still felt the faint, residual heat wave from the H.I.T.s detonating rolling past the trucks open windows, like a hot desert wind.

"Whoa…" Sam said as they slowly lifted their heads to see the aftermath, amazed. There was now a blazing inferno where the CDC used to be. Andrea and Dale were super lucky to still be alive.

Phew. Daryl silently exhaled a sigh of relief. Damn, that was really somethin'. He and Sam glanced at each other. A slow smile spread across their faces and they started cracking up laughing, still running high on adrenaline and happy to still be alive.

"We survived!" Sam exclaimed giddily.

"Not a bad day's work." Daryl said, grinning.

"Not bad at all." Sam agreed, glancing back out the window at the burning building as the others began pulling out, now that Andrea and Dale were safely aboard the RV. Still, it was too bad about Jacqui…


	12. Chapter 12

I own nothing but by OC.

* * *

**Chapter 12: What Lies Ahead**

* * *

"I think the plan to switch to fewer cars so we'll have more gas to go around is a good idea, but I'm against using any major highways." Sam stated flatly with her arms crossed.

"Why not?" Shane asked, clearly annoyed. "It's the most direct and fastest way to get to Fort Benning." He said, pointing at the route he had highlighted on the map.

"He's right. We'll be crossing a hundred miles of hostile territory. We don't want to spend anymore time out there than we have to." Rick said a bit more patiently. "We don't have the gas for it."

"You're forgetting that I've already crossed way more than that alone and on foot. I've seen a lot in between. I know what I'm talking about." Sam reminded them. "And I'm telling you, the highway is not the way to go. Didn't you see what the other side was like on our way into the city? Those cars were parked bumper to bumper. What if it we get to a section like that?"

"I can ride ahead on my bike, make sure there's a way through." Daryl suggested. "No offense, Sam, but it took you a whole month to travel what should've taken only a few hours of nonstop driving by car. I don't want to be stuck wanderin' the desert for forty years."

"I would've gotten here a lot faster if I wasn't laid up with Lyme disease for a few weeks." She mumbled, frowning slightly in annoyance. Why didn't anybody ever listen to her around here?

_"Lyme disease?"_ Rick asked. "How did you manage that?"

"Probably caught it from a tick on a deer I caught." She replied, shrugging. "I was just lucky My mom had thought to clean out our medicine cabinet before we left. We never throw anything out. I had just enough doxycycline left over to treat myself."

"Left over from _what_?" Daryl asked giving her a strange look.

"From when my brother had it." She replied, wondering why he was looking at her like that. What? Her family went hunting every season. One of them was bound to catch it sooner or later.

"Anyway, it's settled. We're taking the highway." Rick said, rolling up the map.

…

Since they were leaving behind Daryl's truck, Shane's jeep, and T-Dog's van, after siphoning all the gas out of their tanks, that left Daryl with just his motorcycle, and he didn't want any passengers, so Sam, T-Dog, Shane, and Andrea all ended up in the RV with Dale and Glenn. Carol's Cherokee was full with Rick behind the wheel, Lori in the passenger's seat, and Carol and the two kids in the back.

It was kind of awkward in the RV during those first couple hours on the road. Nobody really felt like talking. After all, they had just lost Jacqui the day before, and Andrea was very obviously upset with Dale for making her leave instead of letting her commit suicide as well. Finally, T-Dog had enough.

"I've been wondering…" He said, breaking the heavy silence. He glanced at Sam, who was sitting next to him on the back bench. She had been trying to pass the time by reading one of Dale's books. "Did you really walk all the way from Louisiana to Georgia?"

"Yep. Why?" She asked, glancing up at him.

"No way." He said, finding it all too hard to believe, even though he had overheard her say it himself, while she was arguing with Shane and Rick about their route earlier. "You'd have been ripped to shreds if you really stayed out in the open for that long with so many geeks roaming around."

"Well, okay. I had a horse for part of the way after I found it wandering around an abandoned farm, but most of it was on foot." She admitted, shrugging off his skepticism. "I just used some basic hunting tricks, like using scent and sound to confuse your prey, and applied it to avoiding them. As long as you can keep one from noticing you, you don't usually have to worry about being ganged up on. It's when that first one notices you that you know you're in trouble. They're like piranhas that way. They don't really care about you until first blood is drawn, and then they suddenly realize you're there, and they all want a piece of you. I think it helped that I took the scenic route. I mostly kept to the back roads and undeveloped areas like state parks and the countryside. As long as I avoided the main roads and heavily populated areas, I rarely even caught so much as a glimpse of a zombie, I mean walker. The fewer the people, the fewer the walkers. Whenever I passed into a different state, I would stop at one of the more remote welcoming centers and see what natural sights they had that might be worth seeing. It was actually pretty peaceful… but it's gotten a lot worse recently. And I was starting to get tired of being alone."

"Wait, let me get this straight." T-Dog said, holding up a hand. "The whole world's going to hell, and you just decide to take yourself a nice little vacation?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Why not? If this is really the end of the world, I figured I might as well see as much of it as possible while I still can, right?" Sam replied frankly, raising an eyebrow back.

"You're one of those 'glass half full' types, aren't you?" T-Dog asked, smiling, as he shook his head. This girl was crazy, but at least it was a good kind of crazy.

"Actually, I think I'm more the type that doesn't care whether it's 'half full' or 'half empty'. People should just be grateful that there _is _something in their glass and enjoy it." She explained casually, shrugging.

T-Dog nodded. Okay, he hadn't quite thought about it that way before, but he guessed she might be right about that with the kind of world they were living in now.

"You know, Rick had a horse too when we first met him." He told her. "He rode into the city with that gun of his and just started poppin' of rounds like he thought he was John Wayne or somethin'."

"Oh, really?" She said, perking up. That sounded like it might be a story worth hearing. "Do tell."

And so, for the next hour, T-Dog regaled her with the tale of how he and the others first met Rick, and she finally learned how Glenn had saved his life with he was 'just and idiot in a tank'.

Meanwhile, Shane and Andrea were seated at the table in the kitchen area, having their own conversation.

"Looks complicated." Andrea said as she watched Shane clean one many pieces of the gun he had taken apart.

"The trick is getting all these pieces back together the same way." He said with a laugh. "I could clean yours, show you how." He offered. He reached down and picked up when she didn't object. "Oh, yeah." He said as he held up and examined it. "It's a sweet piece."

"It was a gift from my father." She replied. "He gave it to me just before Amy and I took off on our road trip. He said two girls on their own should be able to defend themselves."

"Smart man, your father." Shane said. "Look, it's a—it's a limited capacity, see? Only holds seven rounds."

"Oh, Jeez." Dale said, getting everyone's attention. "Aw, no." The RV's brakes squealed slightly as they came to a slow stop, bring the rest of their three vehicle caravan to a halt.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Sam asked as they all stood up and moved to the front, trying to see what was going on.

"Do you ever get tired of being right?" Shane asked her, glancing back over his shoulder, before moving so she could see for herself. There was an overturned semi in front of them, and the highway looked like a parking lot for the next couple of miles.

Glenn sighed and glanced down at the map in his hands, looking for an alternate route, just in case.

"You see a way through?" Dale asked Daryl when he circled back on his motorcycle to check on them. Daryl glanced back at the road. He nodded his head, indicating Dale should follow, before turning back around and heading into the sea of cars, making sure not to get too far out of sight while showing them the way through.

"Uh, maybe we should just go back." Glenn said. "There's an interstate bypass—"

"We can't spare the fuel." Dale reminded him. They were just going to have to keep going and hope Daryl would be able to find a way for them to all get out in one piece.

"Jeez." Glenn breathed as he looked at all the cars they passed. More than just a few still had some of their passengers inside, and nearly all of them seemed to still have their former owners' belongings packed inside.

"They must have been too afraid to leave their cars." Sam commented. "They couldn't move their cars, and they let their fear paralyze them and trapped themselves inside. They probably died from dehydration and hyperthermia. It'd be like an oven inside those cars once the AC went." Surviving without water wasn't like surviving without food. In hot conditions with no water, dehydration can set in within an hour. A baby locked in a hot car or someone who has physically overexerted themselves in the heat without replacing fluids could actually die in a period of several hours.

"Can we get through here?" Glenn asked, while they all tried not to think about what would happen if they got stuck too, when suddenly there was a terrible screeching sound and a huge plume of steam erupted from the front of the RV.

Daryl stopped and looked back when he heard the noise.

"Please tell me that isn't what I think it is…" Sam asked, squeezing her eyes shut as she willed herself to wrong this time.

"Mm." Dale grimaced as he braked, bringing them to another stop. It was that damn hose again…

"I said it. Didn't I say it?" Dale said as they all climbed out of the RV to take a look at the problem. "A thousand times. Dead in the water."

"Problem Dale?" Rick asked as he and everyone in their car came over to see what was wrong and why they had stopped.

"Oh, just a small matter of being stuck in the middle of nowhere with no hope of—" Dale began, falling short, when he realized Daryl and Sam were already rooting through the back of an open car for supplies. "Okay, that was dumb." He said when Daryl pulled out a knock-off Lunchable.

"Can't find a radiator hose here." Shane said.

"There's a whole bunch of stuff you can find." Daryl said.

"It's like an open flea market." Sam added, picking up a first aid kit.

"I can siphon more fuel from these cars for a start." T-Dog said, joining team bright-side.

"Maybe some water." Carol suggested.

"Or food." Glenn added.

"Hey, kids. Found some M&Ms." Sam said, tossing the bag over to Carl, who grinned as he caught it and showed it to Sophia. They were a little squishy, but it was the first chocolate they had seen in ages.

"This is a graveyard." Lori said, raining on everyone's parade. They all stopped looked around. She was right, in a sense. "I don't know how I feel about this."

"Now isn't a time to be picky." Sam said after a moment's pause. "Don't worry so much about the dead. It's not like they can take it with them. They don't need any of this stuff, but we do."

"What if it was you?" Lori asked. "Would you want a stranger rooting through your stuff and just taking it without permission?"

"I don't think I'd mind if it was a life or death situation, which this is." Sam replied calmly. "After all, I'm a registered organ donor. If I can donate my _organs_ after I don't need them anymore, why should I care if someone takes a random pack of candy or a bottle of water here and there? Don't think of it as grave robbing, but as politely and respectfully taking our share of a universal inheritance left behind for the remaining survivors." She said, smoothly glossing over the ugly situation. If they didn't at least find some water, they might die out here.

"All right." Shane said, walking off to get the red gas tanks and hose with T-Dog so they could start siphoning fuel. "All right, here we go. Come on y'all. Look around. Gather what you can."

"You take some sort of fancy public speaking course at that college you went to?" Daryl asked Sam quietly while everyone got to work on salvaging supplies from the cars.

"Nope. Just grew up in a family full of people who always had to have the last word." She replied, flashing him a sunny smile before leaving to join Carol and Sophia. Daryl smirked and shook his head as he walked off to help T-Dog break open the fuel door of a car.

Carol opened up a suitcase in an open hatchback and pulled out a bright red shirt. She held up to herself to see how it would fit, admiring the smooth texture of the fabric and the pretty color. She began to feel a self-conscious when she realized Lori was staring at her.

"Ed never let me wear nice things like this." Carol explained as Sam walked up. Sam furrowed her brow slightly in confusion, glancing between the two older women, wondering why Carol sounded like she was apologizing. "We'll need clothes." Carol said, putting the shirt back in before taking the whole suitcase.

"That's a good idea." Sam said. "All I have is three outfits, and I'm getting sick of wearing camo."

"Then why did you pack it?" Lori asked a little more tersely than necessary.

"Because it's part of my hunting gear. I was packing for survival, not fashion week in Paris." Sam retorted smartly. Carol allowed herself a small smile at that.

"Carl." Lori said, turning to her son. "Always within my sight, okay." She told him, pretending she hadn't just been out-sassed. Carl nodded.

"You, too, Sophia." Carol said.

"Hey, Carl, Sophia. What do think?" Sam asked as she held up a pretty white cotton laced tunic that just so happened to be in her size. Carl shook his head.

"You'll look like a girl." He told her.

"I _am_ a girl." Sam said, scoffing at his cheekiness, as she gave him a light, playful smack on the head.

"Lori, under the cars!" They heard Rick whisper-yell as he quietly ran up from behind.

"Carl, Sophia, Sam, get down now." He whispered, gesturing down at the ground.

"Come, guys. Under the cars." Sam whispered, making sure they did as he said While Lori ran to get Carol. She didn't know what was going on, but Rick had looked pretty freaked, so it'd probably be better to just do as he said instead of wasting time asking questions. Sam ended up with Carl under one car, with Sophia under another. Lori and Carol and Rick were hiding under cars a little further forward, but they could all still see each other from where they were.

_"What is it?"_ Sam mouthed silently at Rick as he finished pulling his rifle under the car with him.

_"Walkers?"_ He mouthed back.

Sam bit her lip. There must be a lot of them if they were hiding under cars instead of just shooting them. She hoped Daryl and the others were okay.

Carol let out an involuntary whimper when the first row of walkers' feet came into view, so Lori had to clamp a hand over her mouth and hold her tight while they waited it out together.

Sam scooted over so Carl could inch further underneath the car with her. She glanced over at Sophia and held a finger to her lips, silently telling the girl to keep quiet, while Rick did the same for Carl. Sophia looked like she was on the verge of tears, but she hugged her doll close and did her best to brave as wave after wave of walkers shuffled past them.

…

Daryl was already pretty far up ahead of the rest of the group when he realized how quiet it had suddenly become. He could no longer hear the scattered chatter of the others in the background. He turned to see what was up. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the dense wall of walkers headed straight for him. He quickly ducked behind a car. He hadn't seen the others, so they must have already taken cover somewhere. He glanced around the edge of the car again, just to be sure. He was right, most of the others were already out of sight, except T-Dog. That dumbass must've cut himself somethin' awful, because he could just make out a thin trail of red forming on the ground behind him as he ran. T-Dog was doing a pretty good job evading them, considering, but he losing a lot of blood. Daryl knew he couldn't keep it up forever. It was only a matter of time before one of the walkers noticed. Daryl carefully crept back towards T-Dog, holding a screwdriver in one hand and his crossbow in the other. He stealthily stole from one car to another, exposing himself as little as possible to prevent the walkers from seeing him. He saw T-Dog disappear behind an overturned car just when a walker in overalls turned and started advancing purposefully towards the big black man. Daryl snuck up behind the overturned car. He leaned out from behind it and saw that the walker was almost on T-Dog. Quickly and quietly, Daryl rushed forward, setting his crossbow down on the hood of another car so he could slide his arm under the walker's neck, where it couldn't get at him with its nasty teeth, and held it in place while he shoved the screwdriver up into the base of its skull, grunting as they both fell to the ground. He pulled the screwdriver back out of its brain and glanced up at T-Dog. Yeah, the man was in bad shape. The whole right side of his shirt was stained red with blood from his bleeding arm.

"Shh." Daryl said, holding a finger to his lips. T-Dog looked scared and surprised to see him, but he did as he said and kept quiet while Daryl grabbed his ankle and dragged him so that he was laid out on his back. Daryl grabbed the walker he had just killed and positioned it on top of T-Dog so that it covered him up as much as possible to help hide him and mask his scent. Then Daryl opened the door of the car T-Dog had been leaning up against and pulled the dead driver out of his seat. Daryl laid back on the ground near T-Dog with his own decoy on top of him just as more walkers came into view. This had better work. This dead bastard on top of him smelled worse than a rotten squirrel in the sun on a hot summer's day. Once they were gone, and it felt like several minutes had passed without any signs of another walker coming, Daryl shove his decoy away, glad to be rid of it, and pushed T-Dog's off of him. Daryl yanked the other man up into a sitting position and tied the red rag hanging from his back pocket nice and tight around the wound. The pressure should help keep the bleeding down until they could find him a proper bandage.

…

Rick glanced over at his son and Sam, who were under the next car over, and smiled. They had made it. Just when it looked like the storm had passed and they could all breathe a sigh of relief, the worst happened.

"Aah!" Sophia cried out. Sam and Carl immediately turned their heads to see what was wrong. Poor Sophia had poked her head out from under her car too early and caught the attention of a straggler. "Aahhh!" She began to scream and cry as she scooted away to avoid it. Carl tried to move to help Sophia, but Sam wouldn't let him. She held him in place with a hand over his mouth in case he tried to yell at her for stopping him, but if he went out now, then both kids would be in trouble, and that would make it even harder for them help Sophia if their combined noise attracted some of the walkers that had already passed, too. Sam glanced at Carol. It looked like she was trying to get to her daughter, but Lori was keeping a firm grip on her. She glanced at Rick next. He motioned for her to stay put, grateful to her for keeping Carl safe. He glanced at his wife and Carol and gave them a nod, before he began quietly sliding himself out from under his car. He was going to help Sophia. Sophia ended up having to crawl out from under her car and panicked when she saw that there were actually two of them. She yelped as she climbed under the guard rail on the side of the road and started running down hill and into the woods below. Rick wasted no time going after her and her attackers. Lori immediately rolled out from under the car and ran to check on son.

"He's okay." Sam said quietly as she and Carl crawled out once they were sure no more walkers were coming from the back. Now they just had to keep it down so the walkers ahead wouldn't turn back around and come after them.

"Oh, thank you." Lori said softly, hugging him close.

"Lori. Sam." Carol sobbed as she shakily climbed out from under the car and got to her feet, running over to the guard rail. "There's two walkers after my baby."

"Shh. Shh." Lori hushed her, holding her back before she could run off into the woods.

Carol sobbed, holding her hands against her mouth to muffle the sound.

"Shh. Don't worry." Sam told Carl, noticing the deep concern on his face, keeping her voice low. "Sophia has your dad looking out for her. He'll save her."

Carl smiled slightly and nodded. Sam was right. If anyone could save Sophia, it was his dad.


	13. Chapter 13

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Good Intentions**

* * *

Unfortunately, when Rick returned, it was without Sophia, and upon realizing she hadn't returned ahead of him, he quickly organized a search party with Shane, Daryl, Sam, and Glenn.

"Are you sure this is the spot?" Sam asked as she and Daryl checked out the spot where Sophia was supposed to be hiding, under the exposed roots of a tree growing on the bank of a creek. It was a good hiding place, too bad she wasn't there.

"I left her right here." Rick insisted. "I drew the walkers way off in that direction, up the creek."

"Without a paddle—seems to be where we've landed." Daryl commented.

"She was gone by the time I got back here. I figured she just took off and ran back to the group. I told her, go that way and keep the sun on her left shoulder." Rick said, pointing back in the direction of the highway.

Sam nodded. They were simple, easy to remember instructions. If Sophia followed them, she should have been able to make her way back to the group easily.

"Hey, Short Round, why don't you step off to one side? You're muckin' up the trail." Daryl scolded Glenn.

Sam had to suppress a small smile at the _Indiana Jones_ reference he just dropped while Glenn stepped aside and gave Daryl a look for implying he was Chinese again. How many times did he have to tell him that he was _Korean_?

"Assuming she knows her left from her right." Shane commented.

"Shane, she understood me fine." Rick said.

"Kid's tired and scared, man. She had her a close call with two walkers. Gotta wonder how much of what you said stuck." Shane pointed out.

"Got clear prints right here." Daryl announced as he and Sam examined the ground at edge of the creek.

"She did what you said, headed back to the highway." Sam added.

"Let's spread out," Daryl said as he climbed out of the water, followed by Sam and Rick, "Make our way back. She' couldn't have gotten far."

"Hey, we gonna find her." Shane told Rick, giving him a hand up. "She'll be tuckered out hiding in a bush somewhere."

They followed Sophia's trail for quite a while before Daryl and Sam suddenly stopped and crouched down on the ground beside it.

"She was doin' just fine till right here." Daryl said.

"Yeah, all she had to do was keep going." Sam agreed, furrowing her brow slightly in confusion.

"She veered off that way." Daryl told the others, pointing.

"Why would she do that?" Glenn asked.

"Maybe she saw something that spooked her, made her run off." Shane suggested.

"A walker?" Glenn asked.

"I don't see any other footprints." Daryl said. "Just hers. You?" He asked, turning to Sam.

"No… I don't see any blood drops either, though. So that's a good sign." Sam said thoughtfully as she carefully shifted some of the leaves without disturbing too much of the actual trail. "She probably heard something moving up head, panicked, and bolted."

"That would explain why there's no extra set of footprints." Daryl agreed.

"So what do we do?" Shane asked. "All of us press on?"

"No, better if you and Glenn get back up to the highway." Rick said. "People are gonna start panicking. Let them know we're on her trail doing everything we can. But most of all, keep everybody calm."

"I'll keep them scavenging cars. Think a few other chores. I'll keep 'em occupied." Shane said, nodding. "Come on." He told Glenn, and the two of them began making their way back to the highway while Rick, Daryl, and Sam pressed on, following Sophia's trail further into the woods.

"Tracks are gone." Rick said quietly when the three of them came to stop after they had been walking for a couple of hours.

"No… I think I still see something there." Sam said, squinting.

"They're faint, but they ain't gone." Daryl said with more certainty. "She came through here."

"How can you tell?" Rick asked them. "I don't see anything. Dirt, grass."

"You want a lesson in tracking, or you want to find that girl and get our ass off that interstate?" Daryl asked. Rick glanced away, back at the highway, before following after them.

The trail was growing ever fainter as they continued on.

_RUSTLE_.

The three of them instantly dropped down into a low crouching position when they heard something moving off to the side. It sounded like whatever it was, it was below the ridge to their right, where the land dropped down into a deep slope. It could be Sophia, but it might also be a walker. They couldn't know that without seeing for themselves. Rick silently gestured for them to move a bit closer to the edge of the ridge to take a look. They carefully inched closer, making sure not to rustle the leaves and call attention to themselves.

It was a walker.

Rick glanced back at Daryl and Sam. Sam glanced at Daryl. Daryl craned his neck to look at the lay of the land up ahead and then made hand motions to signal for Sam to go around the ridge and distract it from the front while he and Rick doubled back and snuck up on it from behind. Sam and Rick nodded in understanding and they split into their respective groups. Sam quickly and quietly ran across the top of the ridge, putting herself a safe distance ahead of the walker before descending the slope and allowing herself to be put in full view. She whistled a catcall at it, bow at the ready, just in case, but she needn't have bothered. The moment it turned it's head and roared at her, Daryl shot it. The arrow went clean through its head, protruding out its face just above the brow. It collapsed to the ground, stone-cold dead.

"Nice shot." Sam told Daryl as they walked over to her.

"Nice whistle." He replied.

Rick raised an eyebrow as he glanced between the two of them. Was there something going on between these two?

Daryl yanked his arrow back out of the walker's head.

"Sophia!" He called out to the lost little girl, in case she was hiding close by.

"Sophia!" Sam tried calling too. She might be more likely to answer to a feminine voice if she was scared and confused like Shane said.

Rick knelt down beside the body and pulled some gardening gloves out of his pocket. He pulled them on and started examining the corpse.

"What are you lookin' for?" Daryl asked.

"Skin under the fingernails." Rick replied, glancing up at them.

"Right. Forensic evidence. Good idea." Sam said, dropping down beside him. Daryl leaned down to take a closer look, too. That's right. Rick might not be a very good tracker, but he was a cop. He was trained for stuff like this.

Rick turned the body over and observed the blood around its mouth and its swollen belly.

"It fed recently." He said. Next, he opened its mouth and pulled back its lips. He pulled a small piece of some kind of soft tissue that was stuck between a gap in its teeth. "There's flesh caught in its teeth." Rick informed them.

Sam grimaced slightly when he held it up for them to see.

"Yeah, what kind of flesh?" Daryl asked.

"… Only one way to know for sure." Rick said, reaching for his knife. Daryl began pulling on his own set of gloves.

"Autopsy." Sam said grimly, ripping open the walker's shirt to expose his torso so they could get at his belly more easily.

"Here, I'll do it." Daryl said as he held out a hand to stop Rick. He stepped up, and stood over the corpse. "How many kills you skin and gut in your life?" He asked Rick, pulling out his larger hunting knife. "Anyway, mine's sharper." He glanced over at Sam. "Unless you wanna have a go at it?"

"Thanks, but I'll pass on this one." She replied, wrinkling her nose in disgust. She had already dismembered her fair share of corpses to use to camouflage her scent, and it still turned her stomach every time. It was the smell mostly. That foul stench just wasn't something most people could get used to. "He's all yours." She told him, taking a step back.

"Suit yourself." Daryl said, shrugging, as he got into position to begin. "Ungh!" He grunted as he brought the knife down, piercing through the thick layer of abdominal skin in one blow. Rick and Sam watched while he proceeded to expertly gut and carve open the rank corpse without hesitation. She could tell Rick was trying hard not to be sick. He was handling it pretty well, considering how far gone and disgusting this particular cadaver was. Daryl pulled aside the skin he had just finished cutting through. It had been dead for so long, that it's blood was completely black and rotted in its veins.

"Now comes the bad part." Daryl warned them before plunging his hands inside the rotten mess. They watched while he started fishing around inside for the stomach, pushing aside things he wasn't interested in or pulling them out of his way and tossing them off the side. Rick had to cover his mouth with the back of his hand when Daryl ripped some kind of stretchy tissue out and it snapped back on itself with a sickening slapping sound when it finally tore off.

"Yeah, Hoss had a big meal not long ago." Daryl said as he reached his hand further in and felt the stomach. "I feel it in there." They all groaned when he pulled out the stomach and dropped it on the ground next to Rick. The only thing that smelled worse than rotten blood was rotten stomach juice and bile. "Here's the gut bag." Daryl told him.

"I got this." Rick said. No one else objected, so he took his knife and started cutting it open.

"Ugh." Sam and Rick groaned in disgust as a fresh wave of nausea hit them once it was open. Rick dug his knife inside and stirred around the contents. It was all black, mushy, and nasty. It looked like someone had taken tar, spam, cottage-cheese, and applesauce and thrown in it in a blender.

"I'm not hungry anymore." Sam said grimly while Rick raised his knife to examine the gunk still clinging to it, and Daryl started digging around for something more solid with his own knife. Rick silently seconded that emotion as he flung the remains of whatever it was from his knife.

"What's that?" Sam asked when Daryl pulled out a small skull. Actually, from the look of it, it was a large rodent's skull—about the right size for a nutria.

"This gross bastard had himself a woodchuck for lunch." Daryl replied, examining it, before flinging it off to the side.

"Good news for Sophia." Sam commented.

"At least we know." Rick said.

"At least we know." Daryl agreed.

…

The sun was starting to set by the time they decided to start heading back for the highway. They could see Carol standing by the guard rail as they hiked back up to the road. The look on her face when she saw that they had returned empty handed… she looked like she was ready to crumple in on herself.

"You didn't find her?" She asked, already on the verge of tears.

"Her trail went cold. We'll pick it up again at first light." Rick said, trying to break the news as gently as possible.

"You can't leave my daughter out there on her own, to spend the night alone in the woods." Carol pleaded.

"Out in the dark's no good. We'd just be trippin' over ourselves. More people get lost." Daryl explained. If they used flashlights, they might end up attracting walkers.

"But she's twelve, she can't be out there on own." Carol sobbed. "You didn't find _anything_?"

"I know this is hard, but I'm asking you not to panic. We know she was out there." Rick said earnestly.

"And we tracked her for awhile." Sam added. "We know what direction she was headed in before the trail stopped."

"We have to make this an organized effort." Rick said, addressing the whole group. "Daryl knows these woods better than anybody. I've asked him to oversee this." The three of them had already agreed on this on their way back. Sam knew most of the woods of Louisiana and some of Mississippi like the back of her hand, but she was new to Georgia. On the other hand, the woods of Georgia were like his own backyard to Daryl.

"Is that blood?" Carol asked when she noticed the dark stains on the knees of Daryl's pants. Those hadn't been there before. Daryl, Sam and Rick glanced down to see where she was looking. Poor Carol was starting to hyperventilate.

"We took down a walker." Rick told her.

"Walker? Oh, my God." Carol gasped, looking like she was about to faint.

"There was no sign that it was ever anywhere near Sophia." Rick reassured her as Sam reached out to help keep Carol steady on her feet.

"How can you know that?" Andrea asked.

Sam bit her lip and Rick glanced at Daryl.

"We cut the son of a bitch open, made sure." Daryl replied softly. Carol closed her eyes. She needed to sit down. Lori quickly sat down beside her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Carol. Carol, listen to me." Sam said, also sitting down beside the distraught woman, as she placed a supportive hand on Carol's back to make sure she didn't fall off the guard rail. "I happen to know, from personal experience, that walkers _suck_ at climbing trees. So all Sophia has to do is climb a tree and wait for us, okay? She'll be completely safe as long as she stays out of their reach. I've tried it before, and I'm still here, yeah?"

She sobbed again before glancing up at Rick.

"How could you… just leave her out there… to begin with?" She asked Rick accusingly in between breaths. "How could you just leave her?" She demanded.

"Those two walkers were on us. I-I had to draw them off." Rick tried to explain so that she could understand. "It was her best chance."

"Sounds like he didn't have a choice, Carol." Shane said.

"How was she supposed to find her way back on her own?" Carol sobbed softly. "She's just a child. She's just a child."

"I-It was my only option." Rick said as he knelt down in front of her. "The only choice I could have made."

"It's not Rick's fault." Sam told her softly.

"I'm sure nobody doubts that." Shane said.

"My little girl got left in the woods." Carol cried as tears began streaming down her face.

There was a stricken look on Rick's face as he nodded his head and stood back up. He glanced around at the others. They all blamed him he could see it on their faces. Sam watched as he quietly walked off down the highway, feeling ashamed of his failure to protect Sophia, even though he knew he had done everything he could for the little girl.

…

The following morning, when everyone gathered to search for Sophia, they were divided into two groups. Everyone except for Dale, T-Dog, and Sam, who were staying behind with the RV, would be combining their efforts to help with the search.

"I don't understand. You're not coming?" Carol asked Sam, feeling betrayed and confused upon hearing that she would be staying behind instead of helping to find her daughter. Why were they leaving one of the only two trackers they had behind?

"We need her here to help T-Dog guard the RV while Dale's finishing up the repairs and to make sure the road is safe in case Sophia finds her way back." Rick said.

"Her bow is quieter than Dale's gun, so she can take out any stray walkers before they can get too close without making a lot of noise." Shane added.

"Don't worry, Carol. You've still got Daryl." Sam said. "Though it stings to admit it, he's a better tracker than I am, so you're in good hands."

"Good. Now that that's settled…" Shane said. He handed the bundle of Gerber tools Carl had found the previous day over to Rick, who unrolled the black wrapping and spread them out over the hood of a nearby car.

"Everybody takes a weapon." Rick told the search party.

"Those aren't the kind of weapons we need." Andrea said with a lot more attitude than necessary. "What about the guns?"

"We've been over that." Shane reminded her. "Daryl, Rick, and I are carrying. We can't have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles."

"It's not the trees I'm worried about." Andrea replied.

"Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, a herd happens to be passing by. See, then it's game over for all of us. So you need to get over it." Shane told her while the others selected their weapons. Glenn picked out the Gator Machete Pro. It was a wicked looking blade.

"The idea is to take the creek up about five miles, turn around, and come back down the other side. Chances are she'll be by the creek. It's her only landmark." Daryl informed the others, stepping up.

"Keep space between you but always stay within sight of each other." Rick cautioned them.

"Everybody assemble your packs." Shane said, strolling over to supervise the others and make sure they had enough water, while Rick had a quick word with Dale.

"Keep up on those repairs. We've got to get this RV ready to move." Rick told the older man, keeping his voice down so the others wouldn't hear. By no means was he planning to leave Sophia behind. He just wanted to make sure that when they did find her, they could get out right away if there was trouble.

"We won't stay a minute longer than we have to." Dale reassured him. "Good luck out there, bring Sophia back."

"Keep an eye on Carl, while we're gone." Rick said in reply.

"I'm going with you." Carl protested. "You need people, right? To cover as much ground as possible."

"Mm." Rick groaned, glancing at his wife.

"Your call." Lori told him. "I can't always be the bad guy."

"Well, he has all of you to look after him. I'd say he's in good hands." Dale said.

"Okay." Rick sighed, giving in. "Okay. But always within our sight, no exceptions." He told his son firmly before walking off to check on the others.

Dale winked at Carl, and the boy smiled back before following after his parents.

"You okay, T?" Sam asked eyeing the black man critically. "You're still looking kind of pale."

"I'm fine." He said, rubbing his eyes, as he leaned against the van. Even though they'd just woken up, he looked exhausted.

"Uh-huh." Sam hummed skeptically. "I'm just gonna go see if can find you some juice or Gatorade." She said, walking off to check the pile of supplies they had gathered the previous day. She grabbed a bottle of orange PowerAde. That should do it. She was about to bring it back to T-Dog, when she noticed Daryl was standing off to the side by himself.

"Hey." She said casually, strolling over to him.

"Hey." He said a little absently as he watched the others move around. They were still putting their packs together.

"I know this doesn't really need to be said, but… be careful out there, okay?" Sam said, glancing up at him. She knew that if anyone could take care of themselves out there, it was Daryl, but she still wanted to say it. Daryl glanced back at her.

"Yeah, you too." He replied more seriously.

"Is something wrong?" Carol asked nervously as she approached them, wondering what they were doing all by themselves.

"Nope. Just wishing our fearless leader here luck on the search today." Sam replied glibly. "When you find Sophia, let her know I found a new friend for her doll last night."

"Thank you. I will." Carol said, touched. She found Sam's confidence in Sophia's safety reassuring.

"And if I decided that I had nothing to left to live for, who the_ hell_ are you to tell me otherwise?" They heard Andrea say sternly when she raised her voice. They glanced over at the RV, where she was apparently having an argument with Dale. "To force my hand like that?"

"I saved your life." Dale said quietly.

"_No_, Dale. _I_ saved _yours_." Andrea snapped back. "You forced that on me. I didn't want you blood on my hands, and that is the _only_ reason I left that building. What did you expect? What, I'd have some kind of epiphany? Some life-affirming catharsis_!_?"

"Maybe just a little gratitude." Dale replied. Sam bowed her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. _Wrong answer, Dale._

_"Gratitude?"_ Andrea asked, scoffing. "I wanted to die my way, not torn apart by some drooling freaks. That was _my _choice. You took that away from me, Dale."

"But—" He said.

"But you know better?" She asked, shaking her head. "All I wanted after my sister died was to get out of this endless horrific nightmare we live every day. I wasn't hurting anyone else. You took my choice away, Dale. And you expect _gratitude?"_

"I don't know what to say." Dale told her, honestly at a loss for words.

"I'm not your little girl. I'm not your wife. And I'm sure as hell not your problem. That's all there is to say." She told him, shaking her head as she walked off to join the others. She was the only one they were waiting on now, so they all turned and left to search with Sophia as soon as they saw her coming. Sam walked over and gave Dale a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before handing T-Dog his PowerAde.

"Looks like it's just us now, boys." She said, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the RV.


	14. Chapter 14

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 14: The Lost And The Found**

* * *

Daryl carefully led the search party through the woods, keeping an eye out for any signs that might indicate Sophia's trail had picked up again along the way, while Rick covered his back and kept an eye out for walkers. Shane was picking up the tail end of their group, making sure nothing snuck up on them and no one fell behind. After they had been walking for a good while past their stopping point from yesterday, Daryl spotted a tent just a few yards ahead on the right. He silently brought it to Rick's attention as he crouched down low behind a young tree. Rick quickly followed suit and gestured for the others to get to get down too, but only Carol and Andrea seemed willing to take the hint. Glenn, Shane, Carl and Lori were still on their feet, though the latter two as least hung back where they were still partially concealed by the thicket they had just passed through.

"She could be in there." Shane said.

"Could be a whole buncha things in there." Daryl replied, keeping his voice low, as he crept forward with his crossbow. Carol moved to follow, but Rick gestured for her to wait. They didn't know what was in there yet, and it could be dangerous. He and Shane cautiously followed Daryl's lead, weapons at the ready. Once they were closer, Daryl, motioned for the other two men to wait while he advanced alone and drew his knife in case it became a close-quarters fight, temporarily setting his crossbow aside. Daryl tried to take a peek inside, but the door was still zipped up most of the way, and there was nothing that he could see in his limited line of sight. He tried looking in through one of the tent widows, but the privacy screen was still closed up on the inside. He couldn't make out if there was anyone inside, but nothing had tried to attack him yet, so that was a favorable sign. He glanced back at Rick and Shane and shrugged as he shook his head, silently letting them know as much.

"Carol." Rick whispered, motioning for her come forward. Shane held up a hand, signaling for the others to keep back. They weren't ready for them yet. "Call out softly. If she's in there, yours is the first voice she should hear." Rick told her, keeping his own voice low. If Sophia was scared and panicking, they didn't want her running away because she didn't recognize them. But a scared child would recognize their mother's voice anywhere.

"Sophia," Carol called out softly, "Sweetie, are you in there? Sophia, it's mommy. Sophia, we're all here, baby. It's mommy."

Nothing not a peep. Sophia didn't answer, and she didn't come out. Rick gestured for Carol to wait where she was while he and Shane moved closer to back Daryl up while he slowly finished unzipping the tent's door. He lifted the tent flap, and the familiar and foul odor of rotting flesh wafted out in full force, making the three men cough at the sudden decrease in air quality, but Daryl quickly regained his composure and ducked inside the tent to investigate while Rick and Shane waited outside. What he found in that tent was the corpse of a man who had evidently decided to blow his brains out, because they were all over the tent walls, and the man's mouth and back of his head were pretty much destroyed. He had been there for awhile because his corpse was infested with maggots, but the gun he had used to commit suicide was still in his hands. At least he did them all the favor of offing himself in a way that prevented him from turning into another walker to deal with. There was no sign that Sophia had ever been there.

"Daryl?" He heard Carol call out softly. He probably shouldn't keep them waiting any longer. Before he left, Daryl reached down and took the gun from the corpse's hand. He tucked it in the back of his pants waist. You could never have too many guns, especially during a zombie apocalypse.

"Daryl?"

"It ain't her." Daryl told them as he emerged from the tent. Carol sighed and glanced back at Lori, simultaneously disappointed and relieved because they hadn't found her daughter yet, but she had caught a whiff of the rotten smell even back from where she was standing with the others.

"What's in there?" Andrea asked.

"Some guy." Daryl replied. "Did what Jenner said. Opted out." He put his knife away and slung his crossbow back over his shoulder. "Ain't that what he called it?"

And then they all heard it, the faint sound of ringing bells. Rick was the first to pinpoint the direction, he pointed, Daryl nodded, Shane agreed, and they all took off chasing after it. They reached a small sunny spot where the sound seemed to echo all around them.

"What direction?" Shane asked.

"I think that way. I'm pretty sure." Rick said, pointing straight ahead.

"Damn, it's hard to tell out here." Shane said, sighing, as they continued to walk at a slower pace.

"If we hear them, maybe Sofia did too." Carol suggested hopefully.

"Someone's ringing those bells, maybe calling others." Glenn said.

"Or signaling that they found her." Andrea said.

"She could be ringing them herself. Come on." Rick said, taking the lead.

…

Back on the highway, Dale was taking his shift as lookout on the roof of the RV while Sam took a water break in the shade of the large vehicle's shadow.

"Ain't you supposed to be fixin' that radiator?" T-Dog asked as he wander over, drinking from his own water bottle."What if they come back with Sophia, and Rick wants to move on right away?"

"It's already done." Sam told him. She might not know how to fix a broken radiator herself, but she could tell the difference between that duct tape Frankenstein monster they used to have on there and the new, fully functioning hose that she had seen Dale put in there to replace it. They had come to a quiet arrangement to keep that their little secret for awhile.

"I had it fixed yesterday." Dale explained.

"What?" T-Dog asked, glancing between the two of them. "What was all that rubbin' and sandin' for then? That just bullshit?"

"Yeah, that's one word." Dale said, glancing around before looking back down at T-Dog. "Another word would be… pantomime. Just for show. No one else needs to know about that."

"Pantomime." T-Dog mumbled to himself, still not quite seeing the need for such a trick.

"He's not just doing it for the hell of it, T-Dog." Sam said, speaking up for the older man when she saw the somewhat disgruntled look on his face.

"If the others know we're mobile, they'll want to mobilize, move on." Dale explained.

"So you don't think they're gonna find Sophia, that it?" T-Dog asked.

"I'm just guarding against the worst." Dale replied. "Sooner or later, if she's not found, people will start doing math. I want to hold off on the needs of the many vs. the needs of the few arguments for as long as I can."

"See?" Sam said. "We're hoping for the Disney ending, but we're preparing for the Shakespeare ending too, just in case."

"That is one tricky hose, huh?" T-Dog said, finally understanding.

"Very." Dale replied. The three of them shared a conspiratorial smile.

…

Meanwhile, the others seemed to have found the source of the bells. They had come to a huge clearing that was home to a graveyard and a church.

"That can't be it." Shane said. "Got no steeple, no bells."But Rick was not to be deterred. "Rick." He called after his friend when he took off running, leaving Shane and the others no choice but to follow.

They slowed their pace once they came alongside the church. Rick quietly hopped up the concrete steps and paused outside the double red wooden doors, keeping to one side. Daryl came up the stairs behind him and took up a position in front of the other red door, while Shane kept back to cover them both. Rick held up a hand and silently signaled to Daryl that they needed to enter quietly. Daryl nodded and they pushed the doors open together. The wooden doors swung open with a squeak, and they saw that there were already three people sitting in the pews inside of the small church. Well, scratch that. They were actually walkers. That much became obvious when all three of them turned around in their seats to stare at the new intruders. As the walkers stood up, Lori handed the parang knife she had chosen earlier to Rick, and he stepped forward to deal with the threat as quietly as possible, followed by Shane with his machete. Daryl decided to trade Glenn his cross bow for his Machete Gator Pro blade, and went to deal with the bitch in the dirty veil while Rick took out the son of a bitch in overalls, and Shane took care of the man wearing a tie. Daryl crept around and snuck up on her through the pews. He made some kissing sounds to get her attention and then slashed her across the middle of her face with the blade. It cut through her like butter, and the extra hook went deep enough to get enough of the brain to put her down with one blow. It happened so fast that Daryl barely even had enough time to back up before the bitch fell to her knees and started bleeding all over the carpet. He was finished before Rick and Shane. The other two men were breathing heavily by the time they struck their final blows. Even so, Rick only took a brief moment to collect himself before shouting for Sophia and running to the side door to make sure she hadn't gone out that way.

"Yo, J.C.," Daryl said as he approached the cross, "you takin' requests?" He and his brother weren't exactly religious men, but he had a feeling some of the people there with him could use a little prayer right about now. The longer the search went on, the longer the look on their faces got.

"I'm telling you, it's the wrong church." Shane told Rick. "It's got no steeple, Rick. There's no steeple."

_RING~ RING~ RING~_

Well, that showed how much he knew. As soon as the bells started ringing again, Daryl was rushing back out the front door and down the steps outside, following the sound directly to its source. A speaker mounted on the side of the building. Glenn quickly ran over and disabled when he saw what it was, afraid it would attract more walkers.

"A timer. It's on a timer." Daryl said, turning back to face the others, before walking back inside.

"I'm gonna go back in for a bit." Carol said quietly, also heading back into the church, with most of the others following after her.

…

Sam was taking the next watch shift on the roof of the RV, when she saw something coming over the horizon in the distance. She raised the binoculars to see what it was coming up the middle of the road. She nearly dropped them when she saw what it was. She couldn't believe it! She almost thought it was a mirage or a hallucination until she began to hear the familiar sound of a Ducati Streetfighter S tearing down the highway. She would know that stupid bike anywhere—not that Ducatis were stupid. Actually, the bike was pretty cool. It was its owner that was stupid.

"Is that a motorcycle I hear?" T-Dog asked and he and Dale looked up from the car they were currently in the process of salvaging for parts. "Wait, where are you going?" He furrowed his brow in confusion when he saw that Sam was already climbing down.

"Sam?" Dale called after her, concerned, when she just ran off. The men exchanged a brief glance before going after her.

"Hey! Turn that damn thing off!" Sam yelled at the driver as he rolled to a stop a few feet away from the beginning of the highway parking lot.

_"Little Sammy?"_ He asked as he removed his helmet, staring at her in disbelief. "Been a while since I've seen _you_. What are you doing in South Carolina?"

Sam deadpanned. Yep, it was definitely Brandon. Still just as pretty, and still just as stupid.

"You're one state off, genius." She replied as Dale and T-Dog caught up to her. "This is Georgia."

"It was South Carolina when I last stopped." He replied, shrugging. He must have been going too fast to read the signs on the highway.

"Sam, do you know this man?" Dale asked as he and T-Dog approached them cautiously. Sam smiled it was sweet how they both looked so ready to defend her if she was in trouble.

"Yeah. This is Brandon. He's one of my brother's old friends from high school." She explained. "He's an idiot, but he's harmless."

"Ouch. That hurts, Sammy—in here." Brandon said, placing a hand over his heart as he feigned hurt over her blunt comment. T-Dog and Dale relaxed up seeing how friendly they were, despite the insults.

"So, who are your friends? And what are you doing in this neck of the woods?" Brandon asked curiously as he glanced around. "Is Dave with you?" He asked, referring to her brother. Sam's smile faltered at that last question.

"This is Dale and T-Dog." She replied, gesturing to each man in turn. "And you first."

"Fine. I was on a road trip up north when the Z-apocalypse started. I'm on my way back to Louisiana, you?"

"… I came from there." She said, suddenly acting a bit more subdued. T-Dog and Dale bowed their heads slightly, knowing why. "A lot's happened over the last two months. You may need to sit down…"

...

Daryl leaned against the wall of the church, watching from the back, while Carol stood at the front prayed aloud before the crucifix.

"Lord, forgive me." She prayed humbly. "I don't deserve your mercy. I prayed for safe passage from Atlanta, and you provided. I prayed for Ed to be punished for laying his hands on me, and for looking at his own daughter with whatever sickness was growing in his soul. I prayed you'd put a stop to it. Give me a chance to raise her right, help her not to make my mistakes." Carol let out a soft sob. "She's so fearful. She's so young in her way. She hasn't had a chance. Praying for Ed's death was a sin. Please, don't let this be my punishment. Let her be safe, alive and safe. Please, Lord. Punish me however you want, but show mercy on her."

Daryl could see the tears glistening on her face as she turned around and sat down next to Lori on the front pew. Lori put an arm around her and stroked her short hair, trying to comfort her friend.

Once Carol had finished in the church, they went back outside. Daryl glanced around and noticed Andrea and Shane seemed to be having a heated discussion over in part of the graveyard, though he couldn't make out exactly what was being said. The moment the two of them noticed they had come back out of the church, they separated, and Andrea joined them under the shade of a tree. Daryl contemplated asking her what it was about, but decided he didn't really care enough to ask. It probably wasn't any of his business anyway. He watched as Shane made his way over to Rick, who was standing apart a short distance away. The two of them began whispering about something, keeping their voices low so that he and the others couldn't hear them over by the tree.

"Ahem." Shane cleared his throat to get their attention as he walked over to let them know the plan. "Y'all gonna follow the creek bed back, okay? Daryl, you're in charge. Me and Rick, we're just gonna hang back, search this area another hour or so just to be thorough."

"You're splittin' us up. You sure?" Daryl asked. Was that really the best idea when they had already seen signs that members of an undead congregation might still be lingering around somewhere?

"Yeah, we'll catch up to you." Shane said.

"I want to stay too." Carl said, stepping forward. "I'm her friend."

Rick and Shane exchanged a glance. They glanced at Lori.

"Just be careful, okay?" She told her son.

"I will." Carl promised.

"When did you start growing up?" Lori asked, giving him a hug. Rick walked over, and she gave her husband a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Daryl noticed Andrea was giving Shane a pretty intense stare while this was going on.

"Here, take this." Rick told Lori as she turned to leave, holding out his gun for her to take. "Remember how to use it."

"I'm not taking your gun and leaving you unarmed." She told him.

"Here, got a spare." Daryl said as he approached her, deciding to interrupt before it turned into a pointless argument. "Take it." He handed Lori the gun her had taken from the corpse in the tent earlier. It was probably better if he didn't mention that particular detail, though. She might not want it if she knew where it came from.

…

Things got real quiet again after they separated from Rick and Shane and started heading back up the other side of the creek.

"So this is it?" Carol suddenly out of nowhere asked as she sat down on a log. "This the whole plan?"

"I guess the plan is to whittle us down into smaller and smaller groups." Daryl replied. He didn't like that Rick had split them up into such uneven groups. It just didn't sit right with him.

"Carry knives and pointy sticks. I see you have a gun." Andrea commented pointedly, glancing at Lori.

"Why, you want it?" Lori asked without hesitation, staring straight at her. "Here, take it." She pulled the gun out of her back pock and handed it over. "I'm sick of the looks you're giving me."

Andrea grabbed it out of Lori's hand, staring at her with a look of incredulous disbelief, but she didn't care.

"All of you." Lori continued, addressing the others too as she sat down on another log. "Honey," she said, turning to Carol, "I can't imagine what you're going through. And I would _anything_ to stop it. But you've got to stop blaming Rick. It is in your face _every_ time you look at him. When Sophia ran he didn't hesitate, did he? Not for a second. I don't know that any of us would have gone after her the way he did." She added, glancing up at the rest of them. "Or made the hard decisions that he had to make, or that anybody could have done it _any_ differently." Carol wouldn't look at her. "Anybody?" Lori asked.

Daryl calmly stared straight back at her. He knew Rick had done the best he could, that he wasn't the type of man to just cut and run and abandon anyone. He couldn't even leave his a drug-dealer to die, let alone a little girl.

"Y'all look to him, and then you blame him when he isn't perfect. If you think you can do this without him, go right ahead. Nobody is stopping you." Lori said, shaking her head. She took a sip of water.

Daryl watched as Andrea quietly handed the gun back to Lori.

"We should keep moving." Andrea said quietly.

Since there was no trail to follow, Daryl let Lori take the lead for a little while and waited to make sure the others were all following before continuing on his way. Didn't want anybody getting left behind because they were too busy sulking after Lori's scolding to move on.

* * *

Author's note: I added some links to my profile for pictures of Sam and Brandon and what some of their stuff might look like.


	15. Chapter 15

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Bloodletting**

* * *

"You still worrying about it?" Andrea asked Lori when she stopped and turned to look back again.

"It was a gunshot." Lori replied.

"We all heard it." Daryl said.

"Why one? Why just one gunshot?" Lori asked.

"Maybe they took down a walker." Daryl replied, looking away.

"_Please don't patronize me._ You know Rick wouldn't risk a gunshot to put down one walker. Or Shane. They'd do it quietly." She said, frowning at him.

"Shouldn't they have caught up to us by now?" Carol asked.

"There's nothing we can do about it anyway. Can't run around these woods chasin' echoes." Daryl said reasonably.

"So what do we do?" Lori asked.

"Same as we've been." He replied calmly. "Beat the bush for Sophia, work our way back to the highway."

"I'm sure they'll hook up with us back at the RV." Andrea said.

Lori nodded and started walking again, along with Daryl and Glenn, but Andrea hung back to have a few words with Carol.

"I'm sorry for what you're going through." Andrea told her, causing the others to pause and look back when they realized they weren't following. "I know how you feel."

Carol smiled tightly as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I suppose you do. Thank you." She replied softly. "The thought of her out here by herself… It's the not knowing that's killing me. I just keep hoping and praying she doesn't wind up like Amy." It was out before she could stop herself. She saw the look on Andrea's face and realized how cruel it must have sounded. "Oh God. That's the worst thing I said." She exclaimed, trying to find the right words to apologize, but Andrea steeled her nerves and shook her head.

"We're all hoping and praying for you," Andrea told her, "for what it's worth."

"I'll tell you what it's worth—not a damn thing." Daryl told them as he walked over to the two women. "It's a waste of time all this hopin' and prayin'. 'Cause we're gonna locate that little girl, and she's gonna be just _fine_. Am I the only one zen around here?" He asked as he turned away to resume the search and lead the others on. "Good Lord." They only just started looking. Sophia had been missing for a day, not a month.

…

"We are gonna have quite a collection of spare parts, I tell ya." Dale told T-Dog as he wander over to him. He had been on watch duty while Sam broke the bad news about what had happened in Louisiana to her brother's friend. He seemed to be taking it about as well as could be expected of anyone in his situation. He had gotten real quiet, which seemed to worry Sam, so they let her sit with him on the side for awhile to make sure he was really okay and not about to do anything drastic.

"Shouldn't they be back by now?" T-Dog asked Dale, referring to the others in their group who had gone off to search for Sophia.

"Well, it's still light. Let's not worry just yet." Dale replied, glancing up from the car he was salvaging parts from. "How are you feeling?"

T-Dog glanced at him briefly but didn't reply.

"T-Dog?" Dale said, concerned. He put down the engine part in his hand and picked up his rifle so he wouldn't lose sight of it before approaching the silent younger man. "I asked you how you were feeling jut now. Please don't blow that question off."

"It really hurts." T-Dog answered honestly after seeing the genuine concern on the older man's face. "It's throbbin' something awful."

Dale furrowed his brow slightly. That didn't sound good. He reached out took T-Dog's hand, raising his arm so he could take a closer look at the wound. He gingerly peeled back part of the gauze from the first aid kit that Sam had found yesterday where the bandage was loose and not strapped down to his arm with black electrical tape. What Dale saw disturbed him.

"Ah! Don't—Don't touch it!" T-Dog cried out in pain when Dale put the gauze back on top of his wound with a little too much force. It was ridiculous how much one wound could hurt!

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Dale apologized, immediately withdrawing his hand when he saw how much pain T-Dog was in. "Listen, your veins are very discolored. You got a hell of an infection there. You could die from blood poisoning." He said urgently.

T-Dog stared at him for a few seconds before busting out in a fit of nervous laughter.

"Wouldn't that be the way? World gone to hell, the dead risen up to eat the living, and Theodore Douglas gets done in by a cut on his arm!" T-Dog exclaimed in between laughs.

"Yeah, that would be—that would be stupid." Dale agreed as he placed his hands on the other man's shoulders to keep him steady, worried he might be unsteady on his feet. "I've been saying since yesterday, we've got to get you some antibiotics." He sighed. "We've been ransacking these cars the whole time. I can't believe that we have not found some Ampicillin or–or _something_ in the whole place. Can you?"

"Seems like there would be." T-Dog agreed, glancing around, as he straightened up.

"Yeah, that's what I think." Dale said. "Well, we uh—we haven't been though enough. So let's look some more. Maybe we can get Sam and our new friend to help us out." He suggested hopefully. T-Dog smiled slightly and nodded his head, grateful to Dale for not giving up on him.

"I'm glad I wasn't there." Brandon said eventually, glancing at Sam, who was sitting across the kitchen table from him. "I don't think I could've taken it, seeing all that first hand. I'm sorry about Dave… and your parents." He had seen his fair share of devastation over the past two months, but it was different watching bad stuff happen to strangers than having to watch it happen to people you actually cared about.

"Yeah." Sam replied quietly, relieved he had finally decided to join her back in the real world. "But they're in a better place now. We're the ones who are in trouble."

"You're tellin' me." He said, sighing, running a hand through his dark blonde hair. It was probably the first time she'd ever seen Brandon without some kind of gel in his hair, a sign of the hard times that had fallen upon them.

"Hey, sorry to disturb you," Dale said, poking his head into the vehicle, "but we could really use some help out here."

"What's wrong? Walkers?" Sam asked, immediately standing up.

"No, it's not that… T-Dog's wound is infected. I think he may even be on the verge of having a case of blood poisoning, if he doesn't already." Dale explained seriously.

"That's really bad, isn't it?" Brandon said, glancing at Sam. She knew more about first aid than he did.

"He could die." Sam replied, frowning at the grave news. "We need to find him some antibiotics or something—fast."

"Well, shit." Brandon said, also standing up. "What are we waiting for? Let's go help a brother out."

Meanwhile, T-Dog had already started searching. This one didn't have a dead body in the driver's seat. He didn't see anything in the front seats of the car he had picked to start with, so he tried the glove box. He didn't find any medicine, but he did find a box of matches and a pack of cigarettes. Guess he might as well. It's not like he had a great chance of living to a ripe old anyway these days. He opened the pack, removed a cigarette, and put in his mouth. He turned to straighten up and leave, and that's when he saw it, sitting on the back seat—a bloody baby car seat. T-Dog shuddered at the terrible implications of the sight before him. He quickly shut the car door and left.

…

"We'll lose the light before too long." Daryl said, stopping. "I think we should call it."

Lori nodded in agreement.

"Let's head back." She said, causing the other to glance at her.

"We'll pick it up again tomorrow?" Carol asked.

"Yeah, we'll find her tomorrow." Lori agreed.

Daryl whistled for the others to follow, and they started heading back to highway.

…

"Found some more batteries," Dale announced as he came over to join T-Dog in the shade of the RV for a bit, carrying a whole bunch of stuff, "a bottle of very trendy pink water, an excellent _new_ machete, and I thought Glenn might like this guitar. Maybe he plays." He sat down next to T-Dog. "No drugs, but Sam and Brandon are still looking." He added. "You?"

"Yeah, Ibuprofen. And these." T-Dog replied, holding up the cigarette he was smoking. "What are we doing?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"Pulling supplies together." Dale replied.

"No, I mean… what are we _doing_?" T-Dog asked again more emphatically. His head was swaying as he turned to look at the older man. "People off in the woods, they's lookin' for that poor girl, and we're stuck here. Why?" He asked as Sam and Brandon came over to take a break, carrying more water and generic headache medicines like aspirin and Tylenol.

"Someone had to." Sam said reasonably as they plopped themselves down on the ground.

"No. It's 'cause they think we're the weakest." T-Dog said. All three of them stared at him with confusion and concern. Where did _that_ come from? "What are you, 70?" He asked Dale.

"64." Dale corrected him.

"You, you're a late-comer. You're redundant 'cause Daryl already has that crossbow of his." T-Dog continued, pointing a Sam with his cigarette. "And I'm the one black guy. Realize how precarious that makes my situation?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dale asked incredulously as he and Sam stared at T with disbelief.

Brandon furrowed his brow slightly. Was he always this pessimistic?

"Are you sure those are normal cigarettes you're smoking?" Sam asked, frowning.

"I'm talkin' about two good-old-boy cowboy sheriffs and a redneck whose brother cut off his own hand because I dropped a key. Who in that scenario you think is the first to get lynched?" T-Dog asked them.

Brandon glanced questioningly at Sam, but she held a hand up, quietly signaling that she would tell him about it later while Dale spoke.

"You can't be serious? Am I—Hey, am I missing something?" He asked. "Those two 'cowboys' have done alright by us."

"And if I'm not mistaken, that redneck went out of his way to save your ass—more than once." Sam added.

"And don't forget Andrea." T-Dog said. "Kills her own sister."

"That is not cool, T." Sam scolded him while Dale shook his head. He shouldn't bring that up in front of Dale. It was obvious how much he still cared about Andrea. "She was already dead." It wasn't Amy anymore. It was a walker.

"Then wants to blow herself up." T-Dog continued. "Yeah, she's all there."

"Who hasn't at least one point in the last two months?" Brandon asked, shrugging.

"Not helping." Sam told him.

"She's having a tough time. What is _wrong_ with you?" Dale asked incredulously. This was definitely not the normal T-Dog.

"The _whole world's_ havin' a tough time." T-Dog retorted. "_Damn, man_. Open your eyes. Look where we are—_stuck in this mess here!"_ He shouted, raising his voice.

"Shh!" Dale immediately starting shushing him.

"You mind keeping your voice down?" Sam asked, whisper-yelling at him. Brandon was bad enough with his motorcycle earlier, they didn't need someone yelling on top of it.

T-Dog blinked and squeezed his eyes shut as he bowed his head and held a hand to it. He really didn't look so good.

"Let's—Let's just go." He said, lowering his voice. He tapped on the side of the RV. "Let's just… take the RV."

_"Are you serious?"_ Sam asked as both she and Dale stared at him like he was crazy.

"You've gone off the deep end." Dale said.

"I mean it, man." T-Dog said. "Wh-Why are we on the side of this road like live bait? Let's go, three of us. Hell, you can come too." He said, nodding his head at Brandon. "Let's go before they get back."

Sam exchanged a worried glance with Dale. Very cautiously, Dale reached out and placed a hand on T-Dog's forehead to feel his temperature.

"Oh my God. You're burning up." Dale exclaimed when he felt the heat radiating off of the younger man's head. "Give me that." He said, pointing to the Ibuprofen that T-Dog had brought back. "Come on. Here, take these." Dale told him, opening the bottle and handing him some pills. "We've got to knock that fever down."

"Here." Sam said, unscrewing the cap on a bottle of water. She handed it to T-Dog so he could take the pills. He was in serious trouble if that infection was giving him a fever. Dale wasn't exaggerating when he said it might be blood poisoning. If they couldn't find anything in the cars, then they needed to get him to a pharmacy or something, and soon.

"Where the hell are they?" Dale asked, referring to the others, as he said what Sam was thinking out loud.

…

"How much farther?" Lori asked as they all continued to follow Daryl back to the highway.

"Not much." He replied. "Maybe a hundred yards. As the crow flies."

"Too bad we're not crows." Andrea commented grimly. She was dead tired and beginning to fall behind. They continued on for a few more minutes, not realizing that she had fallen behind and gotten separated until they heard the screams.

"Andrea?" Carol called out in alarm when they all stopped and glanced around and realized she was missing.

Daryl immediately took off in the direction of the screams with the others following close behind, hoping they weren't too late to save her. When she entered his line of sight, Daryl could see that she had fallen on her back and was struggling to keep a walker at bay by kicking it with her feet. He grabbed his crossbow from the sling on his back, but before he could even finish drawing the arrow he planned to shoot, this girl came galloping out of nowhere on a horse and whacked the walker in the head with a baseball bat, knocking it clean off its feet. It was a well executed attack.

"Lori? Lori Grimes?" The girl on the horse asked as she circled around and came to a halt, looking down at Andrea. "Whoa." She told her horse.

"I'm Lori Grimes." Lori said as they all rushed forward to check on Andrea.

"Rick sent me. You've got to come now." The girl said urgently, getting straight to the point.

"What?" Lori asked. Who was this girl?

"There's been an accident. Carl's been shot. He's still alive, but you've got to come now." The girl explained quickly. "Rick needs you. _Just come._" She commanded to snap Lori out of it when she showed no signs of moving. Lori immediately removed her backpack and dropped it on the ground so it wouldn't be an extra burden on the horse.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. We don't know this girl. You can't get on that horse." Daryl said. He was supposed to be in charge right now. He was responsible for her.

"Rick said you had others on the highway, that big traffic snarl?" The girl asked as Lori climbed up onto the horse.

"Uh-huh." Glenn answered, still a little stunned by her dramatic appearance and the bad news she just delivered to them.

"Backtrack to Fairburn Road. Two miles down is our farm. You'll see the mailbox. The name's green. Hyah!" She told him, taking off like a shot as soon as she finished giving the directions.

Daryl and the others stared after them for a moment. Well, damn. First Sophia goes missing, and now Carl gets himself shot somehow? This was turning out to be a rough week. They all turned to glance back at the walker when they heard it make a strange wheezing sound as it tried to get up.

"Shut up." Daryl told it, shooting it with the arrow he didn't get to fire earlier. He wasn't in the mood to deal with that shit. They needed to get back to the RV and fast.

…

"Shot? What do you mean _shot_?" Dale asked anxiously when he heard the news upon their return.

_"How?"_ Sam asked. They were in the middle of nowhere. Brandon was keeping an eye on T-Dog back by the RV.

"I don't know. I wasn't there." Glenn replied, panting, as he climbed over the guard rail. The others were right behind him. "All I know is this chick rode out of nowhere like Zorro on a horse and took Lori."

"You let her?" Dale asked Daryl incredulously as he climbed over the rail next.

"Climb down out of my ass, old man." Daryl retorted as he strode past them. "Rick sent her. She knew Lori's name and Carl's."

"Ah, wait, Daryl." Sam said, turning and following after him.

"And I heard screams. Was that you?" Dale asked Andrea as she climbed over the guard rail and headed straight for the RV.

"She got attacked by walker." Glenn explained when she didn't answer. "It was a close call."

"Andrea, are you all right?" Dale asked, concerned.

Andrea stopped at the door, turned just shook her head as she gave him a look before climbing inside the RV and slamming the door shut behind her.

"Hey, there's something you should know." Sam told Daryl as she followed after him. He was putting his stuff down on top of the hood of a car and unscrewing the cap on a bottle of water. "We've picked up another person while y'all were gone."

_"What?"_ Daryl demanded, spinning around to face her. Today was one hell of a busy day for surprises.

"It's okay, I know him. Strangely enough, he's an old friend of my brother's. He can be a bit soft in the head, but he's a good guy. He's been helping us scavenge cars and gather supplies." She explained quickly.

"Your brother's?" He asked, furrowing his brow. He could tell by the look on her face that she was relieved to find out that at least one person from her old life was still left alive. Guess he couldn't blame her, but it felt weird, the way he just happened to show up like that. I mean, what were the odds?

"Yeah. I guess it's a small world after all." She said, smiling slightly despite everything that had happened.

"I won't do it." Carol they heard Carol tell Dale as they walked over to join the others by the RV.

Daryl glanced around and noticed that T-Dog was sitting aside from where the others had gathered. He had a blanket wrapped around himself for some reason. A man with dark-blonde hair that was dressed a little too well and little too clean to be straight was sitting with him, smoking a cigarette. That pretty boy was her brother's friend? Seemed kinda strange since her brother was a Marine and all.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked.

"Dale thinks we should leave, go find the others." Glenn said, bringing them up to speed.

"We can't just leave." Carol insisted urgently. They hadn't found Sophia yet.

"Carol, the group is split. We're scattered and weak." Dale said, trying to make her see reason. He wasn't suggesting they give up on Sophia, just that they had to stay together.

"What if she comes back and we're not here?" Carol asked.

"It could happen." Sam said, though she agreed they shouldn't let themselves get split up too much.

"If Sophia found her way back and we were gone, that would be _awful_." Andrea said.

"Okay." Daryl said calmly, nodding his head. They all made good points. "We gotta plan for this. I say tomorrow morning is soon enough to pull up stakes. Give us a chance to rig a big sign, leave her some supplies. I'll hold here tonight, stay with the RV."

"Me, too." Sam said, volunteering without hesitation. "It's not safe to stay out here alone."

"If the RV is staying, I am too." Dale said.

"And if Sam is staying, I'm staying." Brandon called out. "If you don't mind, I can help keep an eye out for your little girl." He told Carol.

"Thank you." Carol told them, relieved that they had agreed to give her more time. "Thank you, all of you." She'd take whatever help she could get.

Daryl glanced at Andrea.

"I'm in." She said. How could she say no when even a stranger had just volunteered his services?

"Well, if you're all staying, then I'm—" Glenn started, only to be cut off.

"Not you, Glenn. You're going." Dale said flatly. "Take Carol's Cherokee."

"Me?" Glenn scoffed. "Why is it always me?"

"Because we can trust you to get it done." Sam quipped, patting him on the back.

"You have to find this farm, reconnect with out people and see what's going on, but most important, you have to get T-Dog there." Dale told him. "This is not an option."

"Yeah, that cut has gone from bad to worse." Sam added as they all glanced over at the sick man.

"He has a very _serious _blood infection." Dale continued emphatically. Sam glanced curiously at Daryl when he blinked and walked off after hearing that. "Get him to that farm. See if they have any antibiotics. Because if not, T-Dog will die, no joke."

"What are you doing?" Sam asked as he started digging through the saddle bags on his motorcycle. He didn't bother answering right away, just pulled out a huge Ziploc bag of orange and white prescription bottles and grabbed Dale's grease rags from where he'd left them draped on the bike.

"Keep your oily rags off my brother's motorcycle." He told Dale, tossing the rags at him. "Why'd you wait till now to say anything? Got my brother's stash."

Sam blinked. Oh, right… The other's had mentioned Merle was a drug dealer, before they went to try to find him in the city. She hadn't realized they were talking about prescription drugs…

"Crystal, X. Don't need that." Daryl said, digging through the bag. "Some kick ass pain killers." He grabbed those and tossed them to Glenn. If Carl got shot, then the kid would probably need some. "Doxycycline." He said, smiling slightly when he found what he was looking for, tossing it to Dale. "Not the generic stuff neither. It's first class. Merle got the clap on occasion." He added, causing a few of the others to wince, clearly wishing he had left that particular gory detail out of it. _Eww._ None of them wanted to think about Merle and how he could have gotten himself a venereal disease.

Sam just raised an eyebrow and glanced back at Daryl as he carried the rest of his brother's stash back to the bike. So, that was why he had given her such a strange look the other day…


	16. Chapter 16

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Ch 16: Save The Last One**

* * *

"About the sign," Sam said once Glenn and T-Dog had left for the farm, "I think I saw some paint in one of the cars we searched earlier, the kind soccer moms use to write those 'go team' messages on car windows. You think that'll work?" She asked.

"Well, sure. Then we can leave her a message on one of the car windows." Dale said.

"Which car was it in?" Daryl asked.

"The powder-blue Dodge Caravan with a Georgia license plate, number WXY 3456." Brandon replied effortlessly. They all stared at him, amazed he could remember so much detail about only one of over twenty cars he had helped search.

"Yeah, he does that. He has a photographic memory." Sam explained. "But he's still an idiot." She added.

"A _useful _idiot." Brandon clarified.

"Whatever." Daryl said carelessly. "Let's go get this paint before the sun finishes settin'."

…

Dale was taking his turn on watch on the roof of the RV. Carol was laying down in the back, while Sam had curled up on one of the kitchen benches, and Andrea was seated at the bench across from her. Daryl and Brandon were making do on the floor… or trying to, at least. Daryl was finding it really difficult to fall asleep with Carol constantly crying and Andrea playing around and rather noisily practicing loading and reloading the clips for their guns. He couldn't understand how Sam and her new friend, Brandon, could fall asleep easily with everything that was going on around them. Daryl grunted as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. That was it, he gave up. If he couldn't sleep, he might as well make himself useful. Daryl walked over to the table and grabbed his crossbow off the table.

"I need my clip now." He told Andrea, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't wake Sam. Andrea glanced up at him, grabbed his clip and handed it to him. "I'm gonna walk the road, look for the girl."

Carol must have heard him because she suddenly stopped crying as she rolled over to look at him through the doorway. Daryl silently nodded at her before squatting down by Brandon.

"You're in the way." Daryl told him, flicking his ear to wake him up.

"_!_?" Brandon yelped as he instantly bolted upright with his hands raised defensively. For a moment, he had thought a walker might have been trying to check on his ear or something. He was relived to see that it was just the redneck from Sam's new group of friends. "Dude, could you not do that? You totally gave me a heart attack just now."

"Whatever. I need to get out and you're in the way, so you might as come with me and make yourself useful." Daryl said carelessly as he grabbed a flashlight.

"Where are we going?" Brandon asked as he stood up and followed him out the RV.

"I'm coming too." Andrea said as she followed them out, shutting the RV door.

"We're goin' for a walk." Daryl informed Dale, glancing up at the old man. "Shine some light in the forest. If she's out there, it'll give her somethin' to look at."

"You think that's a good idea right now?" Dale asked. What if it attracted more walkers?

"Dale." Andrea said sternly, letting him know she wasn't in the mood for a lecture.

Daryl and Brand glanced between the two of them when poor Dale fell silent. Well, that settled that.

Dale sighed heavily as he watched the three of them walk away.

"Hey, weren't you a little harsh on the guy just now?" Brandon asked Andrea.

"No, and don't ask why." Andrea retorted shortly. "It's complicated."

…

"You really think we're gonna find Sophia?" Andrea asked after they had been walking through the woods for awhile.

Daryl shined his light on her face and scoffed.

"You got that look on your face same as everybody else. What the hell's wrong with you people?" He asked acerbically. "We just started lookin'." The only ones who didn't have that pathetic and hopeless look on their faces were Sam and Brandon.

"Well, do you?" Andrea asked.

"She's only been missing for two days." Brandon said, furrowing his brow slightly. He was with Daryl on this one. Why was everyone in this group so pessimistic?

"And it ain't the mountains of Tibet. It's Georgia. She could be holed up in a farmhouse somewhere." Daryl said. "People get lost, and they survive. It happens all the time."

"She's only twelve." Andrea reminded them.

"Hell, I was younger than her, and I got lost. Nine days in the woods eatin' berries, wipin' my ass with poison oak." Daryl replied.

"They found you?" Andrea asked.

"My old man was off on a bender with some waitress. Merle was doing another stint in Juvie. Didn't even know I was gone. I made my way back, though. Went straight into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich." He explained. "No worse for wear. Except my ass itched somethin' awful."

Both Andrea and Brandon couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped from them upon hearing that last line.

"Sorry." Brandon apologized sheepishly, coughing.

"I'm sorry." Andrea said, still laughing. "I'm sorry. That is a terrible story."

Daryl chuckled, deciding to laugh with them for a bit.

"Only difference is Sophia's got people lookin' for her." He added. "I call that an advantage."

"Yeah. I've got one, too." Brandon said, nodding. "Well, actually, this is something that happened to Sam. Don't tell I told you, or she might get pissed at me since she only told it to me in an attempt to cheer me up after giving me the bad news about what happened back home. She said it happened when she was still in Alabama. She was somewhere in the Talladega National Forest, when she accidentally mistook some hallucinogenic mushrooms for a type of normal mushrooms that looked alike. Well, she ate quite a lot of them before the first symptoms started to show, and pretty soon she was higher than a kite and half out of her mind. Long story short, by the time she came to, she was already in Georgia, and the only reason why she knew that, was because she had woken up next to a sign on the side of the highway that she had run into just before passing out. If she can wander around that far in that state without getting herself bitten or eaten by walkers, then I'm pretty sure Sophia's gonna be just fine." He said, grinning, as Andrea and Daryl started laughing again as they pictured Sam running around like crazy, hallucinating talking cows and having other random psychedelic visions.

"You're right." Daryl said, smirking. "She's gonna kill you if she finds out you told us that."

…

As Dale was standing on the roof of the RV, watching and waiting for the three of them to return, he remembered that he still had that pack of Marlboro cigarettes that he had confiscated from T-Dog earlier in his shirt pocket. He pulled it out and examined the carton, sniffing the opening to get a whiff of the blend of nicotine and tobacco inside. Not bad. They actually smelled pretty nice. He glanced up at the road again.

CLUNK.

Dale dropped the box, startled, by the sudden sound, he glanced behind him and saw that it was just Carol climbing the ladder to join him on the roof. Dale quickly leaned down and picked up the pack of cigarettes, tucking them back inside his pocket.

"Can't sleep?" He asked Carol as he turned back to face her.

"No. I'm gonna wait for them to come back. You can go down and sleep if you want to." She replied.

"No, we can keep watch together." Dale said.

"Which way did they go?" Carol asked, stepping up beside him. Dale pointed up the road in the general direction he had last seen them in.

"I take it Sam is still asleep?" He asked curiously.

"Yes, like a log." Carol replied, smiling wryly. "I don't know how she can do it, sleep so soundly after everything that's happened." Even before she lost Sophia, Carol had never had an easy time sleeping. Everyone in their group slept with one eye open, afraid to let their guard down in case a walker attacked.

"Well, she's been on her own for a long time. Maybe she finally feels safe enough to let go with us around to look out for her." He replied, smiling slightly. "They say faith makes one fine pillow."

…

_RUSTLE._

Andrea and Brandon jumped slightly when they head something moving off to the side and Daryl immediately stopped and spun around to aim his crossbow in the same direction the sound had come from. They waited for a moment of two, shining their flashlights, but nothing came. They decided to investigate. Better to meet whatever it was head on now than to let it sneak up behind them later. They soon came upon someone's campsite, it was hard to tell much in the dark, but Daryl was pretty sure it had been abandoned for awhile.

_RUSTLE._

They looked up and saw that the source of the rustling sound was a tree. Something was shaking its branches. Cautiously, the three of them moved in closer, trying to see what the cause might be.

"What the hell?" Daryl said when his flashlight found what they were looking for. Somebody had strung a walker up in the tree like a great big, rotten Christmas ornament. The tree was shaking because it kept moving, trying to get at them.

"Ugh…" Brandon grimaced in disgust when he saw the state of its legs. They were just dangling there, completely stripped of all flesh and muscle. The only thing left was bones and connective tissue.

Daryl stepped closer to read the note he noticed that had been stuck to the tree with a knife while Brandon and Andrea hung back and kept their distance, trying not to be sick.

"Got bit. Fever hit. World gone to shit. Might as well quit." Daryl read aloud.

"What a poet." Brandon comment wryly.

"Dumbass didn't know enough to shoot himself in the head." Daryl said. "Turned himself into a big, swinging piece of bait. And a mess."

Andrea groaned as she leaned over, placing her hands on her knees.

"You all right?" Brandon asked.

"Trying not to puke." She replied grimly.

"Go ahead if you gotta." Daryl said nonchalantly. It just was one of the body's natural defense mechanisms. Better than holding it in and suffering.

"Please, don't, because then I might end up having to." Brandon said, wrinkling his nose slightly, trying not to think about it too hard.

"No, I'm fine." Andrea said, sniffing. "Let's just talk about something else for a minute."

"Good idea." Brandon agreed. "How'd you learn to shoot?" He asked Daryl.

"Gotta eat." Daryl said simply. "That's one thing these walkers and us have in common. I guess it's the closest he's been to food since he turned. Look at him, hanging up there like a big piñata." He added, shining his flashlight on the walker's skeletal legs. "The other geeks came and ate all the flesh off his legs."

Andrea lost control and vomited.

"I thought we were changing the subject." She complained, coughing, as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and straightened back up. Brandon had to raise a hand to cover his mouth and nose as he struggled to suppress his own gag reflex.

"Call that payback for laughing at my itchy ass." Daryl replied sardonically.

"There wasn't a lot that came up." Andrea commented, glancing at her hand and the ground.

They both had to take a quick step back when Brandon finally lost it and proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach all over the ground. Unlike her, he had a lot to lose.

"Sorry." Brandon told them, coughing. "I'm a sympathetic puker. Once I see someone else spilling their guts…"

"We get the picture." Andrea said, holding up a hand to stop him from going into further detail.

"Huh." Daryl said. "Let's head back."

"Aren't you gonna…?" Andrea asked, trailing off as she shined her light on the hanging walker.

"No. He ain't hurtin' nobody." Daryl replied, glancing back at the nasty walker piñata. "Ain't gonna waste an arrow either. He made his choice, opted out. Let him hang."

Brandon wiped his mouth and started following Daryl, but Andrea took a step closer to the walker, still staring up at it. The two men stopped when they realized she wasn't following.

"You want to live now?" Daryl asked as he strolled back towards her. "Or not?"

Brandon's eyes widened slightly when he realized the implications behind the other man's question. Sam had left out the part about Andrea's suicide attempt when she told him about their visit to the CDC in Atlanta. Andrea whipped her head around, narrowing her eyes slightly as she stared at Daryl.

"It's just a question." Daryl told her.

"An answer for an arrow." She replied. "Fair?"

"Mhm." Daryl nodded in agreement.

"I don't know if I want to live, or if I have to, or… if it's just a habit." She said.

"Not much of an answer." Daryl said, but he still raised his crossbow and shot the walker in the head for her. "Waste of an arrow."

…

"You don't need to worry." Carol told Dale while they waited together on top of the RV. "She's with Daryl. If something happens he can protect her. You hear what I'm saying?"

"Sorry, all I heard was 'if something happens'." Dale replied, sounding very much like a worried father. "You mind keeping watch?" He asked, holding his rifle out to her.

"I don't know how to use that." Carol said.

"I won't be gone long." He told her. "If you see anything, call out. I'm not going far. I'll hear you. I'm sure it'll wake Sam up, too, if you need her help."

After walking around for awhile, Dale climbed back onto the roof with Carol. It felt like another hour or so had passed before they finally saw the light of their flashlights bouncing up and down in the distance as they walked back onto the road and started heading back to the RV. Carol let out a soft sob of disappointment when she counted only three heads and turned to head back inside. They hadn't found Sophia after all. Dale glanced after her, concerned, but also relieved to see that Andrea had made it back safe and sound. Just as he finished climbing down the ladder so he could welcome the others back, Carol rushed back inside and slammed the door shut behind her, understandably upset since she was still worried about her daughter. This did not go unnoticed by Daryl, who was only a few feet away. He paused before entering the RV and glanced at Dale briefly before turning off his flashlight and entering the RV silently. Brandon nodded briefly at Dale as he and Andrea rejoined them next, and he headed inside, too.

"Andrea. Wait." Dale said, stopping her.

"What do you want, Dale?" Andrea asked tiredly.

"To give you this." He said, pulling out her gun. "I care about you, so I made a choice for you—choices. I know why I did it, but… this is not my gun. And the choices that I made for you were not mine to make." He said, handing her gun back to her. Andrea quietly accepted the gun. "But I can still ask, and this is not to make you feel guilty or put me ahead of you, but I can still ask, please… don't make me regret this." He said seriously.

"I'll take watch." Andrea replied softly as she stepped past him, heading for the ladder on the back of the RV.

"So, do you forgive me for—do you forgive me?" He asked hopefully.

Andrea stopped and glanced back at him over her shoulder.

"I'm trying."

...

Daryl was the first to wake the next morning, at least, he thought he was until he noticed Sam was no longer in the RV. Was she on watch?

"Morning." Sam greeted Daryl when he stepped out of the RV. Apparently not. From what he could see, she sitting on top the hood of a vintage yellow mustang and was in the middle of painting that message for Sophia they had taken about the previous day. It had been too dark to see properly last by the time they got back with the paint, so they had all agreed they might as well wait until morning to do it since they weren't leaving till then anyway. He watched as she finished writing. The message read:

_Stay here, Sophia. We will come back every day._

"I always knew my college degree would be good for something." She said, leaning back to inspect her work once she was finished, smiling slightly with satisfaction, as she turned the dot over the 'I' in Sophia into a little flower.

"What's it in?" Daryl asked. She never did say.

"Art." She replied with a straight face. Daryl glanced between her serious face and the words she had just painted on the car's windshield, focusing in on that flower over the 'I' in particular.

"Pfft." They both laughed as her serious expression gave way to crooked smile.

"What? I'm using paint, aren't I?" She pointed out in her defense as she slid off the hood.

"An artist." He said, shaking his head as a small smirk played on his lips. "No wonder you're so strange."


	17. Chapter 17

I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**Chapter 17: True Lies**

* * *

Shane, T-Dog, Glenn, Maggie, some kid named Jimmy, and Hershel's younger daughter, Beth were working together to gather some rocks to make a memorial for Otis, the man who died helping Shane get medical supplies for Carl. They all looked up when they heard two motorcycles coming down the road. Shane and Glenn furrowed their brows slightly in confusion. Riding just behind Daryl, who was still leading the caravan on Merle's old chopper, was someone new. They couldn't see his face because of the helmet he had on, but he was riding a much newer and flashier red motorcycle. It took Glenn a moment since so much had happened yesterday, but he quickly realized the guy on the other bike must be Brandon. He hadn't stayed long enough to learn that specific detail about their new friend. Shane frowned. Must be that Brandon guy T-Dog and Glenn mentioned the previous evening. He didn't care that the guy was friend of Sam's brother. He did not like the fact that they picked up a new member and brought him there without getting his or Rick's permission first. Sam had barely been with them for a week. What made the others so sure they could trust her, let alone one of her supposed 'friends'?

"I'll go let Rick and Lori know." T-Dog said, dropping the rock in his hand into the wheelbarrow as he headed for the house.

"Come on." Shane said, limping, as he lead the others over to meet the rest of the group as the caravan pulled in through the gate. He noticed Andrea was driving the shiny new Hyundai he had prepped the other day. Nice of her to bring it to him. The five of them watched as the caravan came to a halt. Rick, Lori, Hershel, T-Dog, and Patricia came out of the house just as everyone started climbing off or out of whatever vehicle they were riding.

"How is he?" Dale asked as soon as they were all together.

"He'll pull through," Lori said as she nodded her head, looking immensely relieved, as she glanced at the older man in suspenders that was standing off to the side, "Thanks to Hershel and his people."

"We'd have lost Carl if not for him." Rick added. Sam smiled as she watched Dale gave Rick a hug and Carol made a beeline for Lori. They were all glad for them. They were all relieved to hear that Carl was okay.

"Thank God." Carol said, hugging Lori. "We were so worried."

"I see you're doing much better." Sam remarked as she and Brandon strolled over to check on him.

"Yeah, thanks to those antibiotics Daryl gave me." T-Dog said, glancing over at said redneck, who was calmly standing off to the side. "Looks like I'll live."

"Good." Sam said, smiling, as she gave him a pat on the back, careful to avoid his arm.

"How'd it happen?" Dale asked Rick, referring to Carl getting shot.

"Hunting accident." Rick replied, taking a breath. "That's all—just a stupid accident."

…

For Otis's funeral, everyone present who knew him took a rock and placed it on top of the pile of rocks already set in place to mark his empty grave in place of the tradition of placing flowers over the deceased's coffin. Daryl noticed Sam had her head bowed out of respect for the man who helped save Carl's life, and her hands were folded together in prayer.

"Blessed be God," Hershel prayed aloud as Beth added her stone atop the grave. "Father of our Lord, Jesus Christ." Next, Jimmy stepped forward and placed a rock on the grave. "Praise be to him for the gift of our brother, Otis," Hershel continued, closing the bible, "for his span of years, for his abundance of character. Otis, who gave his life to a child's, now more than ever, our most precious asset. We thank you, God, for the peace he enjoys in your embrace. He died as he lived, in grace." Hershel raised his head and looked at Shane. "Shane, will you speak for Otis?" He asked.

"I-I'm not good at it." Shane replied, sounding like he was trying not to choke up. "I'm sorry."

"You were the last one with him." Otis's wife, Patricia said. Her eyes and throat were raw from crying. "You shared his final moments. _Please_, I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning." She pleaded, biting her lip as she struggled to keep more tears at bay.

"Okay." Shane finally relented after seeing the look on her face. "We were about done. Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limpin'. It was bad. Ankle all swollen up. 'We've gotta save the boy.' See, that's what he said." Shane told them. His eyes were shining and his voice was breaking. "He gave me his backpack. He shoved me ahead. 'Run', he said. He said, 'I'll take the rear. I'll cover you.' And when I looked back…" He trailed off and glanced back at Patricia.

Sam raised her head slightly, eyeing Shane out the corner of her eyes.

"If not for Otis," Shane continued, limping towards the wheelbarrow by the grave, "I'd have never made it out alive." He said, picking one of the remaining rocks out of the wheelbarrow. "And that goes for Carl, too. It was Otis. He saved us both. If any death ever had meaning, it was his." Shane placed the rock on top of the grave.

…

"Hey, Sam?" Brandon said while they were waiting for the others to finish moving the vehicles in to place so they could start setting up camp.

"Yeah?" She asked.

"Was it just me, or did something about Shane's story not make sense just now?" He asked, furrowing his brow slightly. He really could be pretty dense sometimes, so he wanted to make sure he didn't just miss something. "Didn't Rick say he lent his gun to Otis earlier when you asked him about what happened to make them need a funeral?"

"Yeah, he did." She replied, chewing on her lip.

"But that doesn't add up." Brandon said. He could tell by the troubled expression on Sam's face that she thought so too. "If Otis stayed behind to hold off the walkers, then how did Shane get Rick's gun back?"

"You remember what David used to say, don't you? If the words don't add up, it's usually because the truth wasn't included in the equation." Sam replied grimly, frowning.

"You mean… Shane lied about how Otis died? Why?" He asked.

"… That's what I like about you, Brandon." She said, patting him on the back, as she began moving towards the RV when Dale gave the signal to let everyone know he was done. "You're too good-natured to think evil of anybody else."

…

"Oh. Let me help you with that." Brandon said, rushing over to help Carol with her tent when he noticed she was setting up wrong.

"Oh, um. Thank you." She replied a bit meekly as she let him take it from her. "I've never had to set it up on my own before."

"No problem." He replied, flashing her a sunny smile. "I'm used to it since Sam and her brother were always dragging me along on some kind of camping trip. Those siblings were born to be wild, but me, I'm city boy through and through." He slid the pole through the loops and raised the tent. "To be honest, I'm actually surprised I came back out of those woods last night in one piece. Nature tends to attack me whenever I cross paths with it." He noticed Carol was sniffling. She looked like she was trying not to cry. "Oh, God, no. I am _so _sorry, Carol. I didn't mean it like that!" Brandon said quickly, remembering that her daughter was lost in there and that there were supposed to be walkers in those woods. "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll find your daughter. Look, Sam and Daryl and the others are getting ready to go looking for her again as we speak." He said, pointing over to where they had gathered around the hood of her Cherokee to discuss the matter. "I haven't known Daryl long, but he doesn't seem like the type to give up, and he thinks Sophia has a real chance out there. And Sam's the best hunter and tracker I know. I'm sure they'll find her for you, so don't cry, okay?"

"Okay." Carol mumbled softly, wiping her eye. "Thank you."

"Oh, you don't have to thank me. I'm not good at that rough stuff, but I can lend ya'll a hand with setting up camp and making sure it's all ready and waiting for Sophia when she gets back, maybe help free up someone else who's better suited for the job to go."

"I'd appreciate that." Carol said, nodding. With Lori busy looking after Carl, she could use some extra help with the other chores.

…

Meanwhile, Rick, Shane, Andrea, Daryl, Sam and Hershel were waiting for Maggie to bring back the map Hershel had sent her to fetch from the house. "How long has this girl been lost?" Hershel asked.

"This'll be day three." Rick replied.

"County survey map." Maggie announced as she spread the map out on the hood of the car. "Shows terrain and elevations."

"This is perfect. We can finally get this thing organized." Rick said. "We'll grid the whole are, start searching in teams."

"Not you. Not today." Hershel told him. Sam agreed with him on that. Rick looked like he might just blow away in the wind. He was a wreck. "You gave three units of blood. You wouldn't be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out."

"You gave _three_ units of blood?" Sam asked. No wonder he looked so terrible. "Would it help if donated a unit of mine to him? I'm O-negative."

"It would help a great deal." Hershel replied. Good to know there was a universal donor around. "But you still can't go out for awhile, understood?" He told Rick firmly. He glanced at Shane next. "And your ankle—push it now, you'll be laid up a month, no good to anybody."

"Guess it's just me." Daryl said. "I'm gonna head back to the creek, work my way from there."

"Good idea. I'll join you out there once I'm done donating." Sam said.

"You realize there's gonna be a needle involved in that, don't you?" Daryl teased.

"Shut up. Don't remind me." She muttered, trying not to think about it.

"I can still be useful." Shane said, not content with being benched. "I'll drive up to the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back."

"All right." Rick said, nodding. That would have to be enough for now. "Tomorrow, then. We'll start doing this right."

"That means we can't have our people out there with just knives." Shane said. "They need the gin training we've been promising them."

Andrea glanced at Rick. Yeah, what about the gun training?

"I'd prefer you not carrying guns on my property." Hershel said. "We've managed so far without turning this into an armed camp."

"All due respect," Shane said skeptically, "you get a crowd of those things wandering in here… phew."

"They'll probably be less likely to come if we're not making noise shooting all over the place." Sam pointed out. "Remember, I had a full clip when I joined you guys. I only had to fire a couple of rounds from my mother's rifle." The rest she took care of by bow or by hand.

"Look, we're guests here." Rick said before an argument could start. "This is your property." He added, glancing at Hershel, before turning to Shane and the others. "And we _will _respect that." Rick pulled out the Python and placed it on the hood of the car. Sam immediately pulled her pink gun out and placed it next to his, proving she could put her money where her mouth was. They both looked expectantly at Shane. Shane bit his lip and shook his head before reluctantly pulling out his own hand gun and placing it on the hood too. "First things first: set camp, find Sophia."

"I hate to be the one to ask, but somebody's got to. What happens if we find her, and she's bit?" Shane asked. "I think we should all be clear on how we handle that."

"You do what has to be done." Rick said, bowing his head.

"And her mother? What do you tell her?" Maggie asked.

"The truth." Andrea replied.

Sam noticed the look Maggie sent her father and saw Hershel shake his head at her, quietly telling her not to say anything. For a man who seemed to have no problem speaking his mind, that was sort of suspicious to her.

"Make sure no one's carrying till we're at a practice range off-site." Rick continued while their silent transaction took place.

"I do request one rifleman on lookout." Shane said. "Dale's got experience."

"Now that I do agree with." Sam said. Hershel looked reluctant.

"Our people would feel safer, less inclined to carry a gun." Rick told him. Hershel took a moment to think it over and eventually nodded, giving them his permission. "Thank you."

Shane tapped his fist on the hood of the car before walking off, followed by Daryl, who still needed to set up his own tent. Sam hung back since her lean-to would only take a couple of minutes, and she figured they should get the blood transfusion done as soon as possible, before she chickened out.

"That stuff you brought. Got more antibiotics, bandages, anything like that?" Maggie asked. Rick glanced at Sam and Andrea. Sam shook her head. She'd used the last of her medical supplies up on T-Dog when that first aid kit she found in one of the cars proved to be virtually empty.

"Just what you've seen." Andrea replied before wandering off.

"We're running short already. I should make a run into town." Maggie told her father.

"Not the place Shane went?" Rick asked, concerned.

"No, there's a pharmacy just a mile down the road." She replied. "I've done it before." Rick and Sam exchanged a glance.

"See our man there, in the baseball cap?" Rick asked the father and daughter, nodding at Glenn, who was in the middle of helping Lori set up a tent. "Name's Glenn."

"He's our 'got to town' expert." Sam chimed in. "He's real reliable in a pinch."

"I'd ask him along just to be cautious." Rick suggested to Hershel. Hershel glanced at the Asian boy and nodded to Maggie. They might not know these people that well, but it was probably safer than sending her off on her own.

…

"What are you doing all the way out here?" Brandon asked when he finally found Daryl. The spot the redneck picked to set up his own tent was pretty far away from the others. It was close to the ruins of an old brick fireplace.

"None of your damn business." Daryl replied as he finished hammering in the last tent stake. "Why you lookin' for me anyway?"

"Well, I couldn't help but notice you were gone, and… I figured Sam would want to know where. I can tell she trusts you, so she'll probably want to set up close by." Brandon replied frankly.

"I doubt that." Daryl replied, standing up and grabbing his cross bow. "She gets along better with the others than I do."

"But she doesn't trust them." Brandon replied, causing him to stop. "At least, not all of them. Something strange is going on. I don't know what, but Sam does. I'm staring to get the feeling you do, too." He called after Daryl as he continued to walk away, heading toward the house.

"Dumbass is smarter than he looks." Daryl mumbled under his breath as he left to begin his search for Sophia.

…

"Thank you." Sam said politely when Patricia set down a glass of juice and two sugar cookies in front of her to help get her blood sugar back up after donating a unit of blood to Rick. "I'm sorry about your husband. I would've liked to have met him. He sounds like a good man."

"Thank you." Patricia said. Her lip trembled slightly. "He was." Sam shook her head as she took a sip of juice.

"Is." She replied, causing Patricia to look up at her. "That kind of thing doesn't stop just because a person's gone. Good people never really die. They live on the memories in hearts of the people whose lives they touched."

"You've lost people, too… haven't you?" Patricia asked, looking more carefully at the girl before her.

"Yes." Sam replied, smiling sadly. "My whole family." Patricia gasped softly and raised a hand to cover her mouth. "It's all right, though. It hurts, but they're at peace now, but they wouldn't want me to spend too much time grieving and forget to live. Knowing that helps some. And I recently reconnected with one of my brother's friends, so it's not as if everyone I used to know is completely gone. And you've got Dr. Hershel, Maggie, Beth, Jimmy, and the others, right?"

"Yes… Yes, that's right." Patricia replied, smiling slightly, as she nodded and sniffed, wiping her eye. Sam was right. Otis wouldn't want to her to cry, and she still had the others to help Hershel look after…

"These cookies are _amazing_, by the way." Sam added on a lighter note after taking a few bites. "Did you make them?"

"Yes. They were Otis's favorite." Patricia replied, letting out a small laugh at the memory of how she used to have to scold him for trying to sneak one or two before meals.

Hershel bowed his head as he listened in on their conversation in the next room. He hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but he had come in to get his canteen before setting out with Rick. He was grateful to Sam for helping to direct Patricia's grief in a more positive direction, but he didn't want them getting too close. This arrangement wasn't going to be permanent. It couldn't be.

…

"Daryl." Rick called out, stopping the other man. He had been sitting on the steps of the front porch, waiting for Hershel, when Daryl walked into view. "Sam should be out soon, but… You okay on your own?"

"I'm better on my own." Daryl retorted as he started walking again. "I'll be back before dark."

"Hey." Rick called out again. "We've got a base. You can get this search properly organized now."

"You got a point or are we just chattin'?" Daryl asked sardonically. They were burning daylight here.

"My point is it lets you off the hook." Rick told him. "You don't owe us anything."

"My other plans fell through." Daryl muttered moodily under his breath as he turned around and walked away. What was with people being so damn chatty today?

"That goes for you, too." Rick said, turning around to face Sam as she stepped out onto the porch, followed by Hershel.

"What goes for me too?" She asked, furrowing her brow slightly.

"You don't owe us anything. I heard that young man that joined us yesterday is an old friend. If you wanted to leave and go somewhere with him—"

"Ah, geez." Sam said abruptly, rolling her eyes, as she interrupted him and hopped down the steps to stand at his level. "Come on, Rick. Don't be such a stranger. We may not have known each other long, but we've been through a lot together." She said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Besides, Brandon was my brother's friend. They just let me hang out with them from time to time. It's not like he's my BFF or anything." She added, shaking her head, as she walked off to get her bow before going off to help Daryl search for Sophia.

…

As Dale, T-Dog, and Brandon walked over to the well Maggie told them about, for some reason, T-Dog had insisted on pushing the cart of water jugs himself, despite his injury. They soon found out why.

"I'm not weak." T-Dog spoke up once they reached the pump. "And I'm not a coward."

Brandon glanced curiously at him, wondering where that had come from.

"I never said you were." Dale replied calmly while he inspected the pump.

"No, what I said, on the highway. I don't know what that was." T-Dog said, scratching his head. "Where it came from. That wasn't me." Dale moved out of the way and gestured for Brandon to set the bucket in his hand down in front of the pump's spigot. Once he did, T-Dog automatically began pumping the handle up and down as he continued to speak. "If it's okay, I'd rather you never told anybody about that stuff I said."

"What Stuff?" Brandon asked.

"We couldn't get a word out of you all day." Dale said. T-Dog smiled when he realized what they were doing.

"Say, man, you think there's a snowball's chance we'll actually find that little girl?" T-Dog asked.

"For the first time in my life, I'm betting on the snowball." Dale replied, nodding. He noticed Brandon was walking towards the actual well and saw what had caught the young's attention. There was a great big hole in the wooden cover.

"Me, too." T-Dog replied as he continued to pump more water into the bucket and Dale walked over to join Brandon in his inspection of the well. "Do whatever we have to. I don't care if I have to comb the woods like Rambo or fetch a pail of water. Everyone kicks in, does their part. Am I right?" He asked, missing the horrified expression that was exchanged between the other two men as they started backing away from the well. "Do your part, don't complain." T-Dog continued as he dipped a ladle in the bucket of water, preparing to take a drink. "That's what I always—"

_CLANG._ CLATTER.

T-Dog was cut off mid sentence when Brandon reached out and smacked the ladle out of his hands before he could take sip.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you." Dale told him, glancing back at the well.

…

As soon as T-Dog and Brandon returned from gathering as many of the others as possible to help deal with the situation at the well, Dale pulled out a flashlight and shined it into the well so that everyone present could see the problem for themselves. The moment the light landed on him, the walker in the well began hissing and growling up at them. It was bloated beyond recognition.

"Looks like we got ourselves a swimmer." Dale said.


	18. Chapter 18

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 18: Cherokee Rose**

* * *

"How long do you think it's been down there?" Glenn asked as they all stared down at the walker in the well.

"Long enough to grow gills." Andrea commented sardonically.

"We can't leave it in there. God knows what it's doing to the water." Lori said.

"We've got to get it out." Shane said.

"How do we do that?" Brandon asked.

"Easy. Put a bullet in its head." T-Dog replied. "I'll get a rope."

"Whoa. Whoa, guys. No." Maggie protested.

"Why not?" Glenn asked It's a good plan."

"It's a stupid plan." Andrea told him. "If that thing hasn't contaminated the water yet, blowing its brains out will finish the job."

"But it looks like it's already been bleeding into the water from some cuts…" Brandon pointed out, squinting at it.

"No, she's right. Can't risk it." Shane said.

"So it has to come out alive?" T-Dog asked.

"So to speak." Shane replied with a wry smile.

"How do we do that?" Glenn asked.

They decided to try distracting it with something to eat. They lowered down a noose and a huge chunk of canned ham on a string to try to lure it into letting them loop the noose around its neck. They might as well have lowered down a rock for all the good it did them. The walker completely ignored the ham, showing more interest in them even though they were clearly beyond its reach at the moment.

"It's not going for it." Shane remarked, stating the obvious.

"Maybe 'cause a canned ham don't kick and scream when you try to eat it." T-Dog said.

"I've never seen them go for anything that was dead for longer than a couple minutes." Brandon added.

"They're right. There's a reason the dead didn't come back to life and start and start raiding our cupboards." Lori said.

"We need live bait." Andrea said, glancing at Glenn.

…

"Have I mentioned that I really like your new haircut?" Glenn asked Shane as the older man tied another rope around him to form a makeshift harness. "You have a nice-shaped head."

"Don't worry about it, bud." Shane said, patting him on the back once he was good to go. "We're gonna get you out of here in one piece."

"Living piece." Glenn corrected him. "That 'living' part is important. Nice and slow, please." He said as Shane walked over to join the others, who were already in line and holding onto the rope they would be using to lower him down. It was hooked around the metal water pump.

"We got you." Andrea reassured him.

"Oh, you people are crazy." Maggie said, not wanting to take any part in lowering Glenn to his possible doom.

"You want to get it out of your well or not?" Shane asked her.

"Give us an eye there, Maggie." Dale requested. Maggie reluctantly walked over to the edge of the well to keep an eye on Glenn as he slowly descended into the well.

"Doin' okay?" Maggie asked him.  
"Yep, doing great." Glenn called up, smiling at her. "Living the dream." He said a bit more nervously as he glanced back down at the hissing walker.

"Little lower." Maggie told the others. "Little more."

CREEAAK—_BANG!_

Everyone whipped their heads around to stare at the pump, startled when it suddenly gave way and they heard a startled shout from Glenn when he was lowered down too fast.

"Get it! Get it! Grab it!" They all shouted at Shane, who was closest, but it was all happening too fast. Shane dove for the pump and missed when it broke away from the ground completely and starting sliding towards the well as Glenn fell. T-Dog managed to catch it just in time before he plunged to his doom, but now he was within reach of the walker.

"AAAHH! Get me out of here!" Glenn yelled, kicking the walker's hand away while the others struggled to help T-Dog keep hold of the rope and the pump. If they let go now, both Glenn and T-Dog would be pulled under. "Get it off! Get it off! Get me out!"

"Pull! Pull! Pull!" They all shouted at each other as they all shuffled back from the well, keeping a a firm grip on the rope and pump, grunting from exertion. "Let's go, pull!"

"Get me out. Get me out." Glenn said anxiously as he felt himself being slowly lifted back out. "Come on. Come on. Get me out, guys."

"Glenn!" Lori shouted.

"Pull him up!" Shane yelled. "Pull him up! Pull him up!"

"Get me out!" Glenn shouted as he grabbed the edge of the well and started trying to climb the rest of the way out himself. Brandon and Shane rushed forward to grab his arms and help pull him the rest of the way out.

"Are you okay_!_?" Lori asked as, rubbing, his back while the others checked him for bites. To their immense relief, Glenn was just fine aside from being intensely and understandably freaked out.

"Well, back to the drawing board." Dale said while they all fought to catch their breath.

"Says you." Glenn told him, smirking slightly, as he shakily got back on his feet and placed the rope for the noose in the older man's hand before walking off. Dale started pulling on it when he realized what it was, and it soon pulled taught in his hand. The others all rushed over to see that despite everything that was going on, Glenn had still managed to slip the noose around the hissing walker's neck.

"You know, I like that kid." Brandon said. "He reminds me of Dave back when we were in high school—young, kind of nerdy… yet strangely badass."

…

Sam was steadily making her way through the woods, searching for any signs of Sophia or Daryl, when she spotted a section of disturbed leaves. _Something_ had passed through the area. She let her bow drop to the side and squatted down to take a closer look and heard a low growl rumble from the bushes off to the side. Very carefully and with extreme caution, Sam placed her hand over the handle of her hunting knife as she turned her head to see what the source of the sound was. A feral dog stepped out of the bushes. This was no Chihuahua. It was pretty big. It was baring its sharp teeth at her with its mouth slightly open as it continued to growl, warning her off. Sam stayed perfectly still, knowing that any sudden movements might cause it to attack. She was planning to just slowly back away to a safe distance, but then she noticed the dog's collar. The dog must have had a growth spurt since its master last put it on her, because it looked much too tight. Sam realized the dog wasn't actually growling. It was trying to bark at her, and the collar was strangling the dog. There were patches of fur missing and scratches around it, showing the dog had tried to rid herself of the color on more than one occasion and failed. Sam knew what she was about to do wasn't exactly the best idea in the world, but she couldn't just leave it after seeing that. Very slowly, Sam began to draw her knife as she pivoted around on her feet to face the dog. The fur on the dog's back bristled, standing on end, showing just how on edge the dog was. And then, Sam lunged forward, tackling the fierce dog to the ground. The dog struggled and tried to bite her, but before it could recover from the shock of being knocked over so suddenly, combined with being constantly choked by its own collar, Sam was sitting on top of it and holding it's head down while she slipped the knife under the collar.

_SNAP._

The dog stilled beneath her when it heard and felt its collar suddenly break thanks to the sharp blade of her knife. It seemed bewildered by her actions and the sudden rush of oxygen to its brain now that it was able to breathe properly again. Sam decided to skedaddle before the dog recovered and remembered it was pissed at her for whatever reason. She quickly scrambled off the dog, sheathed her knife, grabbed her bow and started walking away. Not three minutes later, she realized she could hear the soft footfalls of padded feat and the familiar sound of a panting of a healthy, happy dog behind her. Sam stopped and glanced back over her shoulder. Sure enough, there it was. The dog had apparently decided to start following her, and it's disposition towards her had drastically improved since she saved it from its constricting collar. It was looking up at her with big warm and happy eyes. How could she possibly say no to that?

"All right, fine. But you'd better keep quiet." She told it firmly. "The last thing I need is you barking and attracting walkers." The dog wagged its tail in response and kept close behind, practically on her heels, as Sam continued her search through the woods.

…

While Daryl was searching for Sophia, he came upon a what seemed to be an abandoned house in the middle of a clearing in the woods. Daryl armed his crossbow as he began making his way toward it.

BAM!

Daryl kicked the front doors open, keeping his cross bow aimed straight ahead, as he cautiously entered the house, not sure what he might find waiting inside. A some of the floorboards squeaked as he checked the first room. That was clear. He checked the opposite room. No surprises there, either. He noticed the back door was hanging wide open as he moved deeper into the house. The last room on that side of the house, the one closest to it, was also clear.

_THUMP._

Daryl glanced up when he thought he heard a sound from the second floor and turned around to watch the stair, pointing his crossbow at it. He didn't hear anything again, so he decided to finish clearing the first floor before heading upstairs. He crossed the hall and entered what appeared to be the kitchen. He quickly cleared the room off to the side of it before taking notice of the trash can. Sitting out on the top was an open sardine can. It had to have been opened fairly recent because the meat that was still left inside didn't smell too funky yet, and the oil and water hadn't evaporated or congealed. He was able to pour it out into the trashcan easily. He glanced around the rest of the room for other signs of recent use and noticed the pantry door was ajar. Daryl raised his crossbow again and cautiously approached the door, abruptly yanking it open and stepping in front of the open pantry, ready to fire at whatever might have the misfortune to pop out at him. Fortunately, there weren't any walkers inside, just various canned goods and other miscellaneous food items. Daryl took a step back to close the door and noticed something very important. Someone had made a nest in the bottom of that pantry using pillows and an old blanket, and that someone had to be pretty small to fit in there.

"Sophia!" Daryl called out to the little girl as he stepped through the back door and stepped down onto the grass outside. "Sophia!" he checked around both sides of the house, but there was no sign of her. Daryl walked back around to the back door and stopped when he noticed two white wild flowers growing a bout a yard away. He turned and approached the flowers, leaning over to examine it. It was a Cherokee rose bush.

…

"Come on, guys, pull." T-Dog urged as he and the others struggled to pull the lassoed walker out of the well. They were all grunting and gritting their teeth with the effort of trying to pull up the big, bloated corpse, even with help from on of the farm's horses.

"Come on, y'all." Shane said.

"Almost there. Come on, pull, guys." T-Dog encouraged everyone as he kept an eye on the well, waiting on standby to take care of the walker once it was out, armed with the handle from the broken water pump.

"Come on. Come on, ya'll, together." Shane said.

"Come on, pull. Keep it coming." He said, waving his hand.

"Watch out, Dog." Shane warned him when the walker's head came into view.

"Nice and easy." T-Dog said, taking a step back as they pulled the walker up and over the threshold of the well's opening. "Just a little more." He had to jump back when it made a grab for his ankle. "Come on, almost there. You've got to pull it, man." He told Shane when it sliding out. It looked like the bend in its back was caught on the edge of the well. "It's stuck! Come on."

"Pull!" Andrea said as they all gave one great tug on the rope. Their eyes widened as they fell backwards when the soggy corpse suddenly ripped in half as they pulled the torso closer to them and the lower half of the body fell back into the well, raining blood and guts into the once clear water. Shane, Glenn, Brandon, and Andrea groaned as they rolled back onto their feet in pain and disgust. Dale was speechless.

"Mm." T-Dog hummed, biting his lip. Damn. All that work for nothing.

"Ugh." Brandon covered his mouth as they all stared at what was left of the corpse. The top half of it was still growling and snarling as them as it kept trying to reach out and grab them despite being stuck in one place by the well, like a turtle on its back.

"We should seal off this well." Dale said.

"Yeah, might be a good idea." Shane agreed, scratching his head.

"So what do we do about—" Andrea started to ask, when T-Dog slammed the pump handled down on the walker's head. Maggie gasped, looking absolutely horrified. Brandon had to look away. It wasn't a pretty sight, especially on a full stomach.

"Ungh!" He grunted as he began to beat it repeatedly, over and over, until he could be sure he had destroyed the brain. "Good thing we didn't do anything stupid like shoot it." He deadpanned, tossing the bloody pump handle aside.

…

When Daryl entered the RV, he was shocked to find it clean for once. The cups and plates were neatly lined up and stacked together, and even the stove was sparkling. He stepped into the back and found Carol sitting at the small foldout table by the back bench, sewing. She had hung some nice sheer curtains scarves up to cover the cheap plastic blinds.

"I cleaned up." She explained when she saw him. "Wanted it to be nice for her." Daryl nodded as he chewed on a piece of grass, glancing around appreciatively. "For a second I thought I was in the wrong place." Carol laughed humorlessly in agreement, still feeling down after returning to the highway with Shane and Andrea only to discover that Sophia wasn't there and the supplies they had left for her remained untouched. Daryl noticed her melancholy mood and set the item he was holding in his hand down on the counter for her to see. He had put one of the Cherokee roses he found earlier in a bottle filled with water so it wouldn't wilt.

"A flower?" Carol asked, surprised.

"It's a Cherokee rose." He told her. "The story is that when American soldiers were movin' Indians of their land on the trail of tears, the Cherokee mothers were grievin' and cryin' so much 'cause they were losing their little ones along the way from exposure and disease and starvation… a lot of them just disappeared. So the elders, they, uh, said a prayer, asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits, give them strength and hope. The next day, this rose started to grow right where the mothers' tears fell." He paused and shook his head. "I'm not fool enough to think there's flowers blooming for my brother." He watched as Carol wiped her eyes. "But I believe this one bloomed for your little girl."

Carol smiled slightly and let out a small laugh. It was a beautiful story. To think the roughest member of their group would be the one to tell her something so sweet and comforting… Daryl quietly turned and started walking towards the door. He paused for a moment, chewing on the grass in his mouth as he glanced back at Carol.

"She's gonna really like it in here." He told her. Carol smiled and looked at the flower, hoping he was right.

When Daryl stepped out of the RV, he found Sam waiting outside for him, leaning up against it. For some reason she had a mangy-looking dog with her.

"You know, I'm part Cherokee, but I don't think I've ever heard that story before." She mused softly. Well, mostly Choctaw, as far as the small Native American percentage of her heritage was concerned, but there was still some Cherokee in there somewhere according to her grandfather.

"I didn't make it up if that's what you're tryin' to say." He huffed, kind of embarrassed that he had been overheard.

"That's not what I meant. I just thought it was beautiful, that's all." She replied, smiling wryly. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone else I caught you being a gentleman, but… even though you look tough, you're really just a big softie on the inside, aren't you?" She teased, grinning impishly. "A big fluffly teddy bear."

"I ain't no teddy bear." He snapped. "If anything, I'm a Grizzly."

"The very first teddy bears ever created were made using the pelt of a grizzly bear." Sam said matter-of-factly.

"You're making that up." He said, narrowing his eyes slightly with suspicion.

"It's true. President Theodore 'Teddy' Roosevelt shot it himself." She replied easily.

"How do you know all this crap?" He asked.

"Internet." She deadpanned.

"Did you learn _anything_ in college?" He asked.

"Never drink more than three shots of tequila while your friends' camera phones are working?" She said, tilting her head slightly as she waited for his reaction.

"Pfft." He laughed. This girl… "What's with Lassie?" He asked, nodding at the dog.  
"Oh. I found her in the woods." She replied, glancing at the dog, who wagged its tail at the attention. "I thought she'd gone feral, but it seems she still remembers her training and what it's like to be with humans. I think she took a liking to me because she hasn't stopped following me since I took off her old collar for her."

"Must've been hurtin' somethin' fierce if it could leave marks like that." Daryl commented, noticing the dog looked like it had a rope burn around its neck.

"Yeah, she was acting real mean, but now she's sweet as can be." Sam said. "I thought I'd have Hershel take a look at it, since he's a vet. Who knows, maybe she can help us sniff out Sophia tomorrow."


	19. Chapter 19

I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**Chapter 19: Chupacabra**

* * *

It was supper time by the time Sam had finished cleaning up the dog she had found in the woods. She didn't think Hershel would appreciate her bringing a dirty animal into his clean home, but the look on his face when he saw her leading that dog up to the front porch was one of pure astonishment.

"I found her in the woods." Sam explained as he pushed himself out of the rocking chair and came over to examine the dog. "I think she had growth spurt after getting separated from her owner, because her collar was choking her."

"Yes, I see that. Aside from this wound, she seems to be perfectly healthy, though, well maybe slightly malnourished, but as long as you feed her well, she'll recover soon enough. " Hershel said thoughtfully. The dog began wagging her tail and trying to lick his face. "I wasn't sure before, but I am now. I believe this is one of my old patients. She's a lot bigger than when I last saw her, but there aren't too many black mouth cur/Carolina dog mixes around these parts. Her owners used to call her 'Rose'. I bet she's a good hunting dog."

"I hope so." Sam replied. "I was thinking she might be able to help us find Sophia if the scent hasn't gone too cold."

"Maybe." He said, standing back up. "But you'll have to keep a close eye on her if you do. She might get too excited and bite her 'prey' when she finds her. And you can't put her in another collar until these wounds finish healing, or they'll end up being rubbed raw."

"What if I made a body harness for her instead?" Sam asked.

"That might work." Hershel said, nodding. "For now let's let her enjoy not having anything on her neck for awhile. I'll apply some ointment and a bandage after supper."

…

"This is a pretty nice spot." Sam observed as she carried her pack over to Daryl's campsite, accompanied by Rose.

"What makes you so sure I'm gonna share it with you?" Daryl asked, glancing up at her. It looked like that Brandon guy was right about her wanting to come here.

"Because I come with a free rabbit." She replied, holding it up for him to see. He noticed the dog was also carrying a squirrel in her mouth. "That squirrel is Rose's, though. She caught it herself. Turns out she's a hunting dog." Daryl raised an eyebrow.

"That's handy." He remarked as she sat herself down by the fire. "So, you're not staying with what's-his-name?" He asked with a hint of casual curiosity.

"Brandon? No. He prefers sleeping under a roof and surrounded by four walls. He's staying with Dale in the RV." She explained, preparing to skin and gut the rabbit.

"He's not gay is he?" Daryl asked, earning a snort from Sam.

"Hahaha!" She burst out laughing. "No. No, he's one of those—a metrosexual. He has the style and grooming of a gay man, but the orientation of a straight man. Though I can see why you might think that…" She added, smirking, as she glanced over in the direction of the other's camp. "He grew up as the youngest child in a family of all girls, so he tends to be a little girlier than the average guy as a result. He's really good at housework and stuff like that, but he sucks at camping and hunting. He's pretty good at wresting, though. That's how he met my brother. They were on their high school's wrestling team together."

"I see poor thumper's on the menu tonight." Brandon commented as he suddenly plopped down in between them. He had brought his own bowl of spam and macaroni and cheese with him. "What? Just thought I'd come and check on you." He said defensively after seeing the looks on their faces.

"Dude, personal space." Sam told him. "All of our knees should not be touching like this."

"You used to get beat up a lot, didn't you?" Daryl asked, furrowing his brow slightly in annoyance as he watched the two of them scoot over to make the seating arrangement less awkward.

"Wow, how did you know?" Brandon asked, blinking.

"Most of his misery was self-inflicted if you ask me." Sam remarked bluntly while she skinned the rabbit.

"Keep taking like that, and I won't make you a fabulous muff for the winter with that." Brandon deadpanned, pointing at the soft rabbit fur. Sam paused for a moment before shrugging.

"I'll just do it myself, then." She said before hanging the pelt up to dry. "Besides, a muff would just get in the way while fighting."

"That's what you alwa—_!_?" Brandon gasped in alarm as he suddenly hurled his bowl away.

"Good arm." Daryl commented as he watched the dish sail away into the night.

"Let me guess." Sam said, sighing. "There was a bug?"

"There was a _spider_!" He exclaimed, glaring incredulously at her.

"Well, we are outside… sitting under a tree…" Sam pointed out. It was bound to happen sooner or a later. Brandon deadpanned.

"If you need me, I'll be in the RV, hiding." He said as he shot to his feet and started quickly walking away. "Let me know if you happened to see that bowl again tomorrow…"

"You sure he isn't gay?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah. He's just a sissy." Sam replied calmly, going back to work on her rabbit.

…

"I can't believe I slept in." Lori said as she walked over to help Carol with the laundry after realizing everyone else was already up and about.

"You must have needed. Feeling all right?" Carol asked.

"Next time wake me, all right?" Lori replied as she took some wet clothes out of the basket to hang on the line. It looked like Carol had already gone ahead and washed everything without her. "Especially on laundry day."

"I can manage." Carol replied, nonplused. "Sam's friend, Brandon, helped me out with the washing. He's taking care of the dishes right now in the RV."

"Really?" Lori asked, surprised. A man was helping out with the housework in this camp? That had to be a first…

"I had an idea." Carol said as she hung up one of Dale's Hawaiian shirts. "I wanted to run it by you."

"What's that?" Lori asked.

"That big kitchen of theirs got me thinking. I wouldn't mind cokking in a real kitchen again. Maybe we all pitch in and cook dinner for Hershel and his family tonight?" Carol suggested. "Kind of looking for things to keep my mind occupied."

"After everything they've done for us, seems like the least we could do." Lori said.

"You mind extending the invitation?" Carol asked. "Would just feel more right coming from you."

"How so?" Lori asked.

"You're Rick's wife." Carol replied. "It sort of make you our unofficial First Lady." Lori glanced over when he heard her husband talking to the others.

"Morning, guys. Let's get going." Rick told Andrea and T-Dog, who had been gathering together some things to help with the search for Sophia. "We've got a lot of ground to cover." Lori smiled wryly as she hung up a pair of his boxer shorts.

…

"All right." Rick said once everyone participating in the search had gathered around the Cherokee, where they had the map spread out again. "Everyone's getting new search grids today. If she made it as far as the farmhouse Daryl found, she might have gone further east than we've been so far." Sam smiled wryly as she watched Daryl pull on a long-sleeve shirt over his grey tank. It was the first time she'd ever seen him wear a shirt that still had the sleeves attached. She was beginning to think he didn't even own one.

"I'd like to help." Jimmy said as he approached them. "I know the area pretty well and stuff."

"Hershel's okay with this?" Rick asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, he said I should ask you." Jimmy replied.

"All right, then. Thanks." Rick said, giving the teen a pat on the back.

"Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me." Shane said, raining on everyone's parade. "Anyone could have been holed up in that farmhouse."

"Anyone includes her, right?" Andrea asked.

"Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high." Daryl said, holding his hand out at about the same height as Sophia. Coincidentally, it wasn't that much higher than the top of Rose's head.

"Well, going by that, it could've been Sam's new dog for all we know." Shane said.

"Nice try, Negative-Nick, but Rose doesn't have opposable thumbs—something necessary when it comes to the opening and closing of doors, wouldn't you say?" Sam retorted, giving Rose a pat on the head. Rose barked once as if to confirm her statement. Shane shook his head. Even the dog was against him now. "It's a good lead." She told Daryl.

"Maybe we'll pick up her trail again." Rick said, glancing at Sam. She had already cleared the idea of trying to have Rose sniff Sophia out with him last night and had gotten one of the girl's used t-shirts from Carol to use for the dog as a scent reference.

"No maybe about it." Daryl said, pointing to a spot on the map. "I'm gonna borrow a horse, head up to this ridge right here, take a bird's-eye view of the whole grid. If she's up there, I'll spot her."

"Good idea." T-Dog told him as Dale walked up with the bag of guns. "Maybe you'll see your chupacabra up there too."

"Chupacabra?" Rick and Sam asked.

"You never heard this?" Dale asked them. "Our first night in camp, Daryl tells us that the whole thing reminds him of a time he went squirrel hunting and he saw a chupacabra." Rick very carefully made sure to keep a straight face as they all stared at Daryl.

"That's okay. I saw Letiche one time." Sam said confidently. Upon noticing the confused and puzzled looks on their faces, she decided to explain. "The Honey Island Swamp monster. I guess you could say it's sort of like a swamp version of Big Foot… only it's supposedly part alligator. It smelled awful and left behind these really weird footprints."

Jimmy laughed. He couldn't help it, he just couldn't hold it in anymore.

"What are you braying at, jackass?" Daryl asked challengingly.

"So you two believe in a blood-sucking dog and a swamp version of Big Foot?" Jimmy asked skeptically. Were these people for real?

"Do you believe dead people walking around?" Daryl retorted smartly.

"There are all kinds of strange and mysterious things in this world that science has yet to be able to fully explain." Sam added sagely. "Like the placebo effect."

"Hey. Hey." Rick said when he caught Jimmy reaching for the rifle Dale had just set out, taking it from him. "Ever fire one before?"

"Well, if I'm going out, I want one." Jimmy replied.

"Yeah, and people in hell want slurpees." Daryl said sarcastically, slinging his crossbow over his shoulders, as he walked off to borrow a horse and start his search. Sam seconded that. No offense, but she didn't want to have to worry about accidentally getting shot by an inexperienced gunman while she was out searching for a little girl in woods were walkers could be lurking around.

"Why don't you come train tomorrow?" Shane suggested to Jimmy.

"For now he can come with us." Andrea said, referring to herself and T-Dog.

"He's yours to babysit, then." Shane told her.

"Right, well. I'm gonna go get started. See if Rose can figure out where Sophia might've gone after the farmhouse." Sam said. "Come on, Rose." She told the dog, patting her leg, as she walked away. Rose started doing her little happy pant thing again as she followed close behind again, showing that Sam held dominance as her new owner.

…

_TWANG. _SHNK.

Daryl nailed the squirrel to the tree with an arrow, right between the shoulder blades. In one fluid motion he pulled it and the arrow off the tree as he passed by on horseback. He tucked the squirrel into one of his back pockets, saving it for later.

"Whoa." He slowed the horse to a stop when he spotted something stuck on a log in the creek at the bottom of the ridge. It looked like a doll. Daryl dismounted and tied the horse to a tree so it wouldn't wander off on him while he went to investigate. Daryl climbed down the side of the ridge with his cross bow in hand and walked along the edge of the creek to retrieve the doll. It was definitely the one he'd seen Sophia playing with, the one she was carrying around with her before she disappeared.

"Sophia!" He called out, glancing around. After waiting for several minutes with no response, Daryl climbed back up the ridge and mounted his horse again. He just had to keep looking. He just found her doll, so she had to be nearby. The horse whinnied and shuffled nervously when a small flock of squawking birds suddenly flew up from one of the bushes.

"Whoa. Easy, easy." Daryl told the horse, calming it down. He clicked his tongue and pressed his heel in a little closer to its side, urging it to continue on. Daryl was so busy looking down at the creek and watching for more signs of Sophia, that he didn't notice the rattlesnake until it was too late. It hissed and rattled at the horse, spooking it so much that it reared back threw Daryl.

"Ungh! Agh!" Daryl grunted and groaned as he rolled down the side of the ridge while the frightened horse bolted. It all happened so fast. The next thing he knew, he was sliding into the water. He landed with a thud and a splash. "Ughh… Son of a bitch." He groaned. He hurt like hell. It felt like he'd been stabbed in the side. "_Ugh."_ He groaned when he moved one of his hands to see what was wrong and felt the arrow poking through. He winced in pain as he lifted his head up slightly. _He fell on his own damn arrow._ Despite the pain, Daryl forced himself to get up and move. He managed to stumble over to the shallower area by the bank where he had found Sophia's doll. Once there, he planted himself and drew his knife, using it to cut the sleeves of his wet shirt so he could rip them off and use them to bandage his wound. He tied a knot around the arrow, hoping it would help keep it from moving around too much and digging a bigger hole in his side While he tried to get his ass out of there. He glanced up at the ridge. Was it just him, or was it suddenly a hell of a lot steeper and higher? Daryl grabbed a long, skinny branch off one of the logs to use as a walking stick.

_RUSTLE_.

Daryl froze and slowly turned around when something started rustling in the bushes. He reached for his cross bow and realized it wasn't on his back anymore. It must have fallen off somewhere in the damn creek. Daryl quickly hobbled back over to the spot where he fell and began using the stick to feel around for his crossbow under the water. He managed to find it, but he didn't have any arrows left in the quiver.

"Ungh." Daryl grunted in pain as he began climbing back up the steep ridge.

…

"Okay… This can't be right." Sam said, scratching her head as she stared up at the barn. After sniffing around for awhile, Rose had suddenly took off like a shot. Sam had thought she was onto something, but then Rose ended up leading her right back to the farm. "You sure?" She asked the dog, raising an eyebrow. Rose barked in response, wagging her tail. Sam glanced back at the doors. She doubted that. The barn was locked up tighter than Fort Knox, which was a little strange, but she could tell Hershel and his people weren't the type to lock lost little girls up in barns. That would be cruel. They must be using it for storage or something.

"Sophia!" She called out anyway, just in case. Sam sighed when there was no answer, simultaneously disappointed and relieved. Rose must have gotten confused and picked up the scent of something else, like a raccoon or something. "Come on. Let's go back and try again." She was already too far away to hear when several somethings inside the barn let out a low growl as she walked away.

…

It felt like it was taking him forever to climb up that ridge to Daryl, and every time he moved, that damn arrow in his sent a fresh wave of pain through his sore body. He tossed the walking stick aside. It wasn't really doing him much good anyway. There were plenty of young trees and exposed roots for him to grab hold of on his way up.

"Come on. You've done half." He told himself. "Stop being such a pussy." He took a breath and exhaled as he swung himself forward and tried to grab another tree. Unfortunately, his hand slipped, and when he tried to grab the dirt, it crumbled beneath his hands, and he found himself back in the same position he had started in. He was breathing heavily now, doing his best to ignore the pain as he tried moving his foot first this time. Big mistake. Once again, Daryl found himself tumbling downhill head over heels to the bottom of the ridge, only this time his landing wasn't so soft. There was a sharp pain in his head, and then he lost consciousness.

…

"You know, Rose, this is turning into one of those days where you wish you'd skipped the coffee and just gone straight for the whiskey." Sam deadpanned as she sat on the ground, examining the snake she had just shot after it bit her. It had pits on its head, which meant it was venomous. The tan and brown pattern of its skin was perfect for blending into the dry leaf littered ground. She had been so busy watching for things at people height, that she hadn't noticed it until it bit her ankle. It figures this would happen once the dog was no longer leading and she was already starting to get into a lousy mood. "At least it's not a cotton mouth, I can tell that much. Let's hope whatever it was, that was just a dry bite." Maybe she would get lucky and there would be no actual venom in the bite. Rose's ear twitched and she suddenly whipped her head around, sniffing the air. "What is it girl?" Sam asked, wondering if she should be concerned. She hoped it wasn't a walker. Rose glanced back at her before darting off into the woods. Sam blinked and hung her head. "Damn it." She grunted, hanging the snake around her neck, as she grabbed a decent-sized walking stick for her short stature and started limping after the dog. She knew she should probably head straight for the farm, but she had a bad feeling about the way Rose had just run off like that, as if scenting blood. She doubted it was a walker. Rose didn't survive this long by running out to meet creatures that could rip her to shreds, right? And Sam figured if it was a deadly bite, there was nothing they could do for her back at the farm anyway, so she might as well satisfy her curiosity before she died.

…

As Daryl lay bleeding out on the bank of the creek, a familiar figure approached him.

"Why don't you pull that arrow out, dummy?" Merle asked. "You could bind your wound better." Daryl smiled slightly and a weak chuckle escaped his lips when he recognized the voice.

"Merle."

"Hmh. What's goin' on here?" Merle asked. "You takin' a siesta or somethin'?"

"Having a shitty day, bro."

"Like me to get you a pillow? Maybe rub your feet?" Merle asked mockingly.

"Screw you."

"Mm-nh. You're the one who's screw from the looks of it." Merle told him. "All them years I spent tryin' to make a man out of you, this what I get? Look at you. Lyin' in the dirt like a used rubber. You're gonna die out here, little brother. And for what?"

"A girl. They lost a little girl."

"So you got a thing for little girls now?" Merle asked.

"Shut up."

" 'Cause I noticed you ain't out lookin' for old Merle no more." Merle said.

"Tried like hell to find you, bro."

"Like hell you did." Merle retorted. "You split man. Lit out first chance you got."

"You lit out. All you had to do was wait. We went back for you. Rick, Sam, and I, we did right by you."

"Who's Sam, your new boyfriend?" Merle asked mockingly. "This the same Rick that cuffed me to the rooftop in the first place? Forced me to cut off my own hand?" Daryl noticed through his hazy vision that Daryl still had both his hands. "This him we're talkin' about here? You his bitch now?"

"I ain't nobody's bitch."

"You're a joke is what you are, playing errand boy to a bunch of pansy-asses, niggers, and democrats." Merle said, chuckling cynically. "You're nothin' but a freak to them. _Redneck trash._ That's all you are. They're laughin' at you behind your back. You know that, don't you? I got a little news for you, son. One of these days, they gonna scrape you off their heels like you was dog shit. Even that cute little piece of ass in camouflage. She's an artist. She's been to college. You really think she'd be interested in _you_?" he tapped Daryl on the arm when he started to close his eyes. "Hey. They ain't your kin, your blood. Hell, you had any damn nuts in that sack of yours, you'd go back there and shoot your pal Rick in the face for me. Now you listen to me." He grabbed Daryl by the chin. "Ain't nobody ever gonna care about you except me, little brother. Ain't nobody ever will. Come on, get up on your feet. Before I have to kick your teeth in." He grabbed Daryl's boot and started shaking his foot, trying to rouse him. "Let's go."

Daryl woke up to the sound of groaning and the feeling that someone was still pulling on his leg. He lifted his head and saw that a walker was chewing on his boot. The Walker snarled and bared its teeth at him.

"!" Daryl gasped, giving it a swift kick in the head as he immediately began trying to crawl away while still on his back, reaching for his crossbow. But was too far away, and the walker was right on top of him, so Daryl instinctively grabbed a pointy stick and shoved it in its arm with one hand as he punched it with the other. Daryl rolled with the force of the punch, switching their positions so that he was on top, and it was the walker who was pinned. He glanced up when he heard a second growl and saw that another one was headed his way. He needed to take care of this one _now._ Daryl grabbed a sturdy branch and began slammed it down on the first walker's face long-ways to fracture the skull before turning it around and stabbing it in the brain through the broken skull. The second zombie was closer now. Daryl rolled on to his back, gritting his teeth as he groaned in pain while pulling the arrow all the way through his side. The moment it was out, he scooted back and grabbed his crossbow. "Hngh!" He grunted in pain as he pulled the bowstring taught until it clicked into place and set the arrow into position to fire without a moment to lose. The second walker was nearly upon him when he took aim and pulled the trigger. The arrow shot clean through its skulled, killing it instantly. It hit the ground with a heavy thud. Daryl lowered his crossbow as he laid back on the muddy bank, breathing hard as he struggled to catch his breath after having to fight while so heavily wounded and losing so much blood.

Everything faded to black.


	20. Chapter 20

I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**Chapter 20: Chupacabra (part 2)  
**

* * *

Daryl gasped as he regained consciousness, somewhat startled when he remembered where he was and what had happened just before he passed out again. He groaned as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. At least there wasn't a walker chewing on one of his boots this time. He limped over to sit on a natural ledge at the bottom of the ridge, away from the walkers he had just killed, and removed the rest of his plaid shirt so he could fold it up and use it as a temporary bandage to soak up the blood by tying it in place with the sleeves he ripped off earlier.

"Son of a bitch was right." He muttered as he grabbed his crossbow. It was easier to bind his wound without the arrow still stuck in his side. Since he was feeling pretty light-headed because of the blood loss, Daryl decided to eat the squirrel he had been saving for later now to help replenish his strength. He didn't bother wasting time with building a fire. He ate it raw. Daryl glanced over at the two walkers he had killed. He removed a shoelace from one's boot and drew his knife, using it to slice off both corpses ears. He strung all four of them up on the lace, creating a trophy to commemorate the kills. He tied the ends of the lace in a knot and slipped it over his head, wearing it as a necklace. He glanced up at the steep ridge towering above him. Time to climb. He was halfway up when he had to ditch his walking stick again and pause for a breather. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard birds crying out. The sun was in his eyes, so Daryl couldn't tell exactly what kind they were, but he could see that they had begun to circle the creek.

"Please, don't feed the birds." A familiar voice came from the top of the ridge. Daryl looked up and saw the smirking face of his older brother. Merle laughed. "What's the matter Darylina? That all you got in ya? Throw away that purse and climb."

"I liked it better when you was missin'." Daryl said, grunting, as he struggled to continue his climb through his pain and fatigue. Merle laughed again.

"Come on, don't be like that. I'm on your side." Merle told him.

"Yeah? Since when?" Daryl retorted.

"Hell, since the day you were born, baby brother." Merle replied. "Somebody had to look after your worthless ass."

"You never took care of me." Daryl panted as he grabbed onto a thick vine. "You talk a big game, but you was never there. Hell, you ain't here now. Guess some things never change."

"Well, I tell you what, I'm as real as your chupacabra." Merle replied sardonically.

"I know what I saw." Daryl grunted as he pulled himself further up the ridge.

"And I'm sure those shrooms you ate had nothin' to do with it, right?" Merle asked mockingly.

"You'd best shut the hell up." Daryl snapped.

"Or whaaat? You're gonna come up here and shut my mouth for me? Well, come on and do it, then, if you think you're man enough." Merle taunted him, laughing again. "Hey, kick off them damn high heels and climb, son." Daryl groaned as he reached out and grabbed hold of a young tree to use as a hand hold while climbing. "You know, if I were you I'd take a pause for the cause, brother. 'Cause I just don't think you're gonna make it to the top. Come on. Come on, little brother." Merle said, waving his hand as he stretched it out to him. "Grab your friend Rick's hand."

_CLAP._

Daryl froze, shocked when his hand actually ended up coming into contact with another human's flesh instead of dirt and leaves. He knew at once that it wasn't his hallucination of Merle brought to life, because the skin was soft and smooth. He clasped hold of the thin forearm as the slender hand connected to it grasped his and looked up into the face of its owner. He found himself staring up into Sam's dark coffee-colored eyes. Her brow was creased with concern as she stared back at him. She was real. She wasn't a hallucination.

"Come on, Daryl. Climb!" She urged him, tightening her grip on him and the tree trunk she was using to brace herself.

"Urngh!" Daryl groaned as he pushed himself up, climbing onto the top of the ridge with her help. Once he was on flat ground again and not in a constant struggle against gravity, they both stopped and took a moment to catch their breath. He looked around. Rose was sitting off to the side, whining as she stared at the two humans with concern, but he didn't see Merle anywhere.

"Yeah, you'd better run." Daryl called out after him.

"Who are you talking to?" Sam asked, furrowing her brow in confusion. It had better not be here he was taking that tone with. Daryl glanced back at her.

"What happened to you?" He asked when he noticed her swollen ankle.

"Snake bite." She replied, chagrined. "You?"

"It's a long story." He replied, not wanting to have to explain that he was pretty much shot by his own arrow. That was even more embarrassing than her snake bite. "That the snake that bit you?" He asked, pointing to the one draped around her neck. It was a copperhead. At least bites from those weren't usually lethal, but they still hurt like a son of a bitch.

"Yeah. Are those ears…?" She asked, spotting his necklace.

"Walkers." He replied simply.

"Right." She said, glad to have her suspicions that they hadn't come from the living confirmed. "And the blood around your mouth?"

"I may have eaten a raw squirrel." He replied.

"Okay." She said, blinking. Sam knew some people liked their steaks rare, but that was a new one on her. "We should get back to camp before you pass out from blood loss and my ankle swells up to the size of Texas?"

"Yeah, that might be a good idea." He agreed as they both stumbled to their feet. It was going to be a long, painful walk back for both of them.

"So… that's how all your shirts lose their sleeves…" Sam said thoughtfully, noting that he had ripped them off to tie the rest of his plaid shirt to wound as a make-shift bandage. "You get injured a lot, then?"

"Shut up." He grumbled. He didn't even want to dignify that with an answer.

…

Andrea was sitting in a blue camping chair on the roof of the RV, keeping watch, when she saw something emerge from the tree line.

"Walker. Walker!" She shouted as she stood up, alerting the others.

"Just the one?" Rick asked as he came over. Andrea picked up the binoculars and checked. The angle of the sun was bad. It was causing a huge glare on the lenses, but she could just make out two figures. A second one was limping toward the farm now.

"I bet I can nail them from here." Andrea said, leaning down to grab Dale's rifle.

"No. No, Andrea. Put the gun down." Rick told her while the other men rushed to grab a quieter weapon.

"You'd best let us handle this." Shane said as he stepped forward, carrying a pick axe. T-Dog joined him, carrying a metal bat.

"Shane, hold up." Rick said. "Hershel wants to deal with walkers."

"What for, man?" Shane asked, pressing on without the slightest hint of hesitation. "We've got this covered."

"Damn." Rick cursed. He turned and ran to get his gun from the RV before chasing after the others. Andrea watched as another limping walker stepped into view. She decided she wasn't going to be left out anymore. She was going to show Rick and the others just what she could do.

CLICK.

Andrea raised the rifle, preparing to take aim as Rick, T-Dog, Glenn, and Shane advanced upon the first walker. The sun was still in her way. She quickly got down on her stomach, taking up a sniper position on the roof in hopes of lessening the glare on the scope.

"Andrea, don't." Dale said nervously. He had a bad feeling about this. What if she hit one of the men?

"Back off, Dale." Andrea as she adjusted her aim, not in the mood.

Rick raised his gun as they came to a halt in front of the two walkers… who happened to look extremely familiar, as did the dog trailing behind them.

"Is that Daryl? And Sam?" Glenn asked. Why did Daryl have all that blood around his mouth.

"That's the third time you've pointed that thing at my head." Daryl growled at Rick, not in the mood for whatever bullshit was going on. "You gonna pull the trigger or what?" Rick exhaled as he lowered his gun, and they all let out a sigh of relief.

"Don't tell me you guys thought we were walkers?" Sam asked dubiously. "We're injured, not undead."

_BANG!_

"Umph!" Daryl grunted when something hit the side of his head. His knees buckled under him and he fell to the ground. Sam stared at him her eyes were wide with shock. He wasn't moving.

"Daryl? _Daryl!_" She shouted anxiously as she fell to her knees beside him, hurriedly looking him over, checking to see if he was still breathing.

"No!" Rick shouted, as the men turned back to glance at the RV, knowing exactly where the gunshot had come from.

Andrea sighed. A job well done. One walker down, one more to go. Her smile fell when she realized she could hear the others yelling. Something was wrong.

"He's alive." Sam said, brushing Daryl's short hair aside to get a better look at the wound. "He's okay. The bullet just grazed his temple, but he's already lost a lot of blood from his other wound." She informed Rick and Shane as they knelt down check on him as well. Rick and Shane exchanged a glance, and they each took one of the redneck's arms, working together to hoist him back onto his feet.

"I was kidding." Daryl grunted. Sam tried to follow them, but stumbled when she accidentally put too much pressure on her swollen ankle. It felt like it was on fire.

"What happened to you?" Glenn asked.

"Snake bite." She replied, wincing.

"Shit." T-Dog said. He knelt down and held his hands behind his back. "Come on, get on." He told her, offering her a piggyback ride to the house. They couldn't let her walk on that. Since the others had their hands full, it fell to Glenn to carry all the weapons back.

"Oh my God." Andrea cried as she and Dale ran out to meet them halfway. "Oh my God, is he dead?" She asked, startled when she saw that Daryl wasn't moving, and Rick and Shane were just dragging him along.

"Unconscious." Rick replied. "You just grazed him."

"But look at him." Glenn said. "What the hell happened? _He's wearing ears."_ They all glanced expectantly at Sam.

"He said it was a long story…" She said, trailing off when they all noticed Hershel was headed their way.

"Let's keep that to ourselves." Rick decided wisely, ripping the macabre necklace from Daryl's neck and quickly tucking it inside one of his shirt pockets to hide it.

"Hey, guys." T-Dog said, stopping abruptly when he noticed something on the ground. He leaned down and Sam picked it up for him, raising it for the others to see.

"Isn't this Sophia's?" She asked. She had been so distracted by Daryl's wounds, freaky ear necklace, and her own pain, that she hadn't even noticed the doll tucked into his belt.

…

"Found it washed up on the creek bed right there." Daryl told Rick, pointing to the location on the map as he lay on his side in bed, holding some gauze to the wound on his head while Hershel worked on his wound from the arrow. His mood was somewhat improved after they gave him some kickass painkillers. "She must have dropped it crossing there somewhere."

"Cuts the grid almost in half." Rick said, glancing at Shane.

"Yeah, you're welcome." Daryl told him.

"How's he looking?" Rick asked Hershel as they both glanced at the older man.

"I had no idea we'd be going through the antibiotics so quickly." Hershel replied as he cut the surgical thread once he finished stitching up Daryl. "Any idea what happened to my horse." He asked as he stepped over to rinse his hand in a bowl of water.

"Yeah, the one who almost killed me? If it's smart, it left the country." Daryl replied sardonically.

"We call that one Nelly, as in Nervous Nelly. I could have told you she'd throw you if you had bothered to ask." Hershel told him before turning to Rick. "It's a wonder you people have survived thins long." They were going to run out of beds at this rate.

Rick and Shane couldn't argue with that. Hershel had no idea just how right he was with everything else they had been through together as a group.

"Take it easy." Rick told Daryl, nodding at him, as he rolled up the map before taking his leave. Shane gave him a small nod too before following Rick out.

"Hey, where's Sam?" Daryl asked. He hadn't seen her since he woke up in this bed.

"Patricia's bandaging her ankle as we speak. The nausea's set in, but it should pass in time for supper." Hershel replied, glancing sideways at him. "She's been very fortunate. It was just a warning bite, so there wasn't too much venom, and the swelling has already started to go down now that the venom's been drained from her ankle. But there's always a danger of muscle and bone tissue damage when the bite is in an area that doesn't have a lot of muscle to absorb the venom. I think she'll be all right, but she needs to keep off of it or it won't heal properly. You're both extremely lucky. I hope you know that." He told him, wiping his hands on a towel as he left the room.

…

It was quiet at supper, and Sam noticed she and Glenn had been seated at the 'kiddie table' since they were with Maggie, Beth, and Jimmy, while all of the older adults who were able to come to the dining room were seated at the larger table. She had to use some old crutches to get around and keep her foot propped up, but at she was able to sit at the table. Poor Daryl and Carl were still stuck in their rooms. But hey, she was just glad to be eating a slice of real ham. It was a nice change, being able to eat a meal she hadn't had to hunt or cook for herself. The ladies did a pretty good job. It was almost as good as her mother's cooking. And she was drinking fresh milk. Now that was something she hadn't had since the outbreak.

"Does anybody know how to play guitar?" Glenn asked pleasantly, breaking the silence. "Dale found a cool one." He laughed a little nervously when no one answered right away. "Somebody's gotta know how to play."

"Brandon, you play, don't you?" Sam asked, glancing over at him at the other table. "You went through that musician phase."

"I only know one chord." Brandon replied a bit sheepishly, smiling wryly.

"Otis did." Patricia said softly after a moment, causing Shane and a few of the others to glance up.

"Yes, and he was very good too." Hershel added. Silence fell over the dining room again. Sam was wondering whether or not she should risk starting a conversation or not, when she noticed Maggie seemed to be passing something to Glenn under the table. Sam bet it was a note. She'd seen that posture and those movements enough times in school to know what passing a secret note looked liked. She smiled slightly and shook her head as she ate her veggies. It looked like Glenn had managed to make a new 'friend'.

…

Daryl was just relaxing in bed when he heard someone enter the room. When he glanced over his shoulder and saw that it was Carol, he started pulling the sheet up over his chest and back.

"How are you feeling?" Carol asked as she set down the tray of food she had brought for him.

"Not as good as I look." He replied, avoiding her gaze.

"I brought you some dinner." She said softly. "You must be starving." Daryl rolled back over a little bit to get a better look at the tray. It looked pretty good, actually. He was caught off guard when she suddenly leaned down and gave him a kiss on the head.

"Watch out, I got stitches." He said, looking away, trying to hide the fact that he was feeling a little embarrassed by all the attention.

"You need to know something." Carol told him. "You did more for my little girl today than her own daddy ever did in his whole life."

"I didn't do anything Rick or Shane wouldn't have done." He told her.

"I know." She replied with a small smile. "You're every bit as good as them. Every bit." Daryl blinked as he rolled over while she left and closed the door behind her. That had to be the one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to him.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

"You decent?" Sam asked as she opened the door and poked her head in. Daryl deadpanned. What was the point of asking if she was already looking?

_"Yes."_ He replied saucily as he watched her hobble into the room on a pair of crutches. "What do you want?"

"I just came to check on you, see how you were holding up." She replied, lowering herself into the same chair by the bed that Rick had been using earlier.

"I'm fine." He huffed, pretending to pick a piece of fuzz off of the bed sheet.

"That's good." She said, smiling. "Pfft. Sorry, but with that bandage wrapped around your head, your hair has started to swirl up like a cockatoo's." She added as she stood up and leaned on the bed to support herself while reaching out so she could fix his hair for him.

"Shut up." He grumbled moodily, a little embarrassed. You get a little injured and all of a sudden these people won't leave you alone.

"Something wrong?" She asked when she noticed the thoughtful expression on his face.

"… Carol said I was every bit as good as Rick and Shane." He replied tentatively, glancing at her to see what she would say. Sam blinked.

"Well, of course." She replied matter-of-factly. "You're just figuring that out now? You've had it in you all along. It's just hidden behind all that attitude and temper of yours."

"Shut up. Don't make it sound so obvious." He told her, frowning slightly. Was she making fun of him? No, he could see in her eyes that she meant it.

…

Sam spent most of the next day whittling and carving away at a stick while watching Daryl poke holes in the screen of the tent window. Since they had been barred from doing _anything _that might aggravate their injuries and keep them from healing properly, they had nothing better to do but lie on their backs in the spare tent that Brandon had set up in the main camp for them, where help would be close at hand if something happened to one of them, and try not to die from boredom.

"Hey." Andrea said softly as she stepped into the tent and joined them, handing a book to Daryl. "This is not that great, but…"

"What, no pictures?" Daryl asked as he flipped through it. Behind Andrea's back, Sam Smiled, clearly amused by his little quip.

I'm so sorry." Andrea apologized. "I feel like shit."

"Yeah, you and me both." He replied, adjusting his pillow.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, but if there's anything I can do…" Andrea said.

"You were tryin' to protect the group. We're good." He told her. Andrea smiled slightly, glad to hear there were no hard feelings.

"You too." She told Sam. "Get better soon, okay?"

"Okay." Sam replied, smiling wryly. It's not like she wanted to be laid up in bed.

"But hey." Daryl said, stopping Andrea as she climbed out of the tent. "Shoot me again, you'd best pray I'm dead." He said, teasing her while he twirled the arrow around his hands. Andrea smiled and gave Rose, who had taken up sentry duty outside the tent, a pat on the head before walking away.

"She's right." Sam said as she picked up the book Daryl had set aside, reading the title. "This really isn't that great." It was the same book she had tried reading the day they got stuck on the highway. "Don't they have any _Harry Potter_ up in this joint?"

_"Harry Potter?"_ Daryl asked dubiously. Wasn't that shit for kids?

"Hey, that shit is magical." Sam said seriously, as if sensing his thoughts. "It's classic. Even my mom was a huge fan. And it's a hell of a lot better than that _Twilight_ crap everyone else my age was reading."

"Hey, guys." Brandon said as he climbed into the tent to join them. "I come baring peaches and jerky."

"Damn. It's like Grand Central in here." Daryl muttered, grabbing a peach. It'd been awhile since he'd had any fresh fruit.

"Thanks. But I've already told you, you don't have to worry about me." Sam said, also taking a peach.

"Well, someone has to." Brandon replied. "And you know your brother would kick my ass if he knew I knew you were in trouble and didn't lend a hand."

"True." Sam said, smirking, as she took a bite out of the peach. Daryl smirked at that. That was something he wouldn't mind seeing.

"Look, I know you're tough, Sam, but you're not indestructible." Brandon said more seriously. "So just do me a solid and try to be more careful in the future, okay?"

"Okay." Sam agreed reluctantly, pouting slightly in annoyance, as Brandon smiled and ruffled her hair before leaving.

"Ch." Daryl scoffed, feeling irritated, as he poked another hole in the screen. Dumbass ought to keep his hands to himself.


	21. Chapter 21

I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**Chapter 21: Pretty Much Dead Already**

* * *

They were all seated around the campfire, eating the breakfast that Brandon was helping Carol cook over the fire. Lori whispered something to Rick and kissed him on the forehead. He whispered something back. Sam was a little concerned by the expression she had seen on Rick's face a few moments before, but decided it was none of her business. Rick had enough to worry about without people poking their nose into his private life. Carol came over and served her and Daryl some of the scrambled eggs she had just finished making.

"Thanks." Sam said, smiling gratefully at her. Despite having done nothing except sit on her ass all day yesterday, she had woken up absolutely starving. Rose whined, licking her chops. "I already let you have my Canadian bacon." Sam reminded her.

"Uh, guys." Glenn said, getting everybody's attention as he stepped up. "So…" There was no easy way to say it, so he might as well just spit it out. "The Barn's full of walkers."

"What?" Sam asked, furrowing her brow, as they all looked up at him.

"Glenn, that is so not funny, man." Brandon said, frowning slightly.

"It's not a joke." Glenn replied grimly. "I've seen them."

…

Sam and Daryl watched with the others while Shane walked up to the bar and peeked inside through small gap in the wood. He counted over ten walkers in there before one of them abruptly appeared right in front of him, staring him in the eye through the gap while it growled. Shane took a step back, slightly startled.

"You cannot tell me you're all right with this." He told Rick as he walked back to the group.

"No I'm not, but we're guests here. This isn't our land." Rick replied, trying to be reasonable and keep everyone calm. Sam was generally of the same opinion as Rick, but she knew they were going to have to deal with the walkers in the barn sooner or later.

"This is our lives, man!" Shane shouted.

"Lower your voice!" Glenn whisper-yelled at him. Was he trying to get the walkers excited?

"We can't just sweep this under the rug." Andrea said.

"It ain't right. Not remotely." T-Dog agreed.

"Okay, we've gotta go in there, we've gotta make things right, or we've just gotta go." Shane said. "Now we have been talking about Fort Benning for a long time."

_"We can't go."_ Rick snapped anxiously.

"Why, Rick?" Shane asked. "Why?"

"Because my daughter's still out there." Carol said.

"Okay." Shane said, covering his mouth as he let out a nervous, incredulous laugh. "Okay, I think it's time that we all start to just consider the other possibility."

"_Shane._ We're not leaving Sophia behind." Rick insisted.

"We're close to findin' this girl." Daryl added. "I just found her damn doll two days ago."

"You found her doll, Daryl." Shane replied. "That's what you did. You found a _doll_."

"You don't know what the _hell_ you're talking about." Daryl barked angrily, cutting the air with his hand, as he took several steps towards the other man.

"All right, All right." Rick said calmly as he held an arm out between them, trying to keep things from escalating.

"I'm just saying what needs to be said here." Shane told Daryl, ignoring Rick.

"No, you're just _scared_." Sam said sternly, from where she was standing over by Carol and Brandon, tightening her grip on her crutches, as she glared at Shane in disapproval."And you're taking it out on Sophia and the rest of us."

"You better keep your mouth shut. You don't know what you're talkin' about." Shane snapped as he violently pointed his finger at her, visibly shaken by her words.

"Don't you talk to her like that!" Daryl snapped back, moving towards him again, only to be stopped by Rick, who was still trying to play peacekeeper.

"You get a good lead, it's the first 48 hours." Shane said, trying to make them understand.

"Shane, _stop_." Rick said. Carol didn't need to hear this.

"Let me tell you something else, man." Shane said, glancing back at Daryl. "If she was alive out there and saw you coming, all methed out with your buck knife and geek ears around your neck, she would _run_ in the other direction!"

"Shut up!" Daryl growled, lunging at him, while Rick did his best to keep them apart. Everyone started yelling as they moved to intervene and help Rick separate the two hotheads before blood was drawn.

"Back off!" Rick shouted, pushing Shane away.

"Keep your hands off me." Shane told Rick, pointing his finger at him. There was a dangerous look in his eyes.

"Just let me talk to Hershel." Rick said. "Let me figure it out."

_"What are you gonna figure out!_?" Shane demanded, rounding on him.

"Enough!" Lori said, stopping him before he could try to lay into her husband too.

"If we're gonna stay, if we're gonna clear this barn, I have to talk him into it. This is _his _land." Rick said sternly.

"Hershel sees those things as people—sick people." Dale said, stepping forward. "His wife, his stepson."

"You knew?" Rick asked incredulously. Sam hung her head. Was she the only one who had passed by this barn and failed to figure it out or something?

"Yesterday, I talked to Hershel." Dale replied.

"And you waited the night?" Shane demanded.

"I thought we could survive one more night. _We did."_ Dale retorted. "I was waiting until this morning to say something, but Glenn wanted to be the one."

"The man is crazy, Rick." Shane said. "If Hershel thinks those things are alive—_No!_" He shouted, interrupting Rick before he could try to calm him down.

_RATTLE._

They all whipped their heads around, startled when the walkers in the barn started growling and banging against the barn doors, trying to get out.

"We should give them some distance." Sam suggested quietly. "If there's nothing around to attract their attention, they'll settle down after awhile."

"You don't know that." Shane said.

"I _do_." Sam retorted seriously. "I spent three days trapped in a cabin after a pack of ten walkers found me. I had used all six of my arrows, and I couldn't retrieve them because of the remaining walkers circling the cabin. I didn't want to use my gun in case the sound attracted more, so I decided to try waiting them out for a few days, and I got lucky. It worked. Just as I was running out of food, they all got bored and left when they realized they couldn't get at me and went off to find an animal or something to munch on instead.

"She's right. I've seen it happen before, too." Rick said. That night he spent with Morgan and his son, even though Morgan's wife had come up to the front door and even managed to turn the knob, she gave up and left once she realized she couldn't get in. "Let's just—Let's all go back to camp. I'll have a talk with Hershel."

…

After hearing that Shane wanted to leave, Daryl didn't waste any time and headed straight for the stable. Leave or stay, he needed to find Sophia as soon as possible. Shane was wrong. That little girl was still out there, waiting for them. He knew it. He grunted in pain as heaved the heavy saddle onto a stand, taking a moment to catch his breath. He might have recovered enough to be walking around on his own, but it hurt to strain himself picking up something that heavy just two days after he'd been seriously injured. He took a moment to catch his breath.

"You can't." Carol said as she entered the stable. While Brandon was helping Sam get back to the camp, she had seen Daryl separate from the group and had decided to go after him.

"I'm fine." He replied tersely.

"Hershel said you need to heal." Carol reminded him as he grabbed a bit and reigns from the wall.

"Yeah, I don't care." Daryl replied. He knew he was pushing it. He hadn't told Sam because he knew she would either try to stop him or try to help him, and he was more worried about that snake bite healing properly than his own wound since Hershel had said there could be muscle damage.

"Well, I do." Carol told him as he walked past her and into the stall with the horse. "Rick's going out later to follow the trail."

"Yeah, well, I ain't gonna sit around and do nothin'." He said as he slipped the bridle onto the horse.

"No, you're gonna go out there and get yourself hurt even worse." She replied. He didn't respond, just kept working on getting the horse ready to ride. "We don't even know if we're gonna find her, Daryl." He finally paused and looked at her. "We don't."

Daryl stared at her. She couldn't be serious.

"I don't." She said softly.

"What?" Daryl asked, stepping back out of the stall.

"Can't lose you, too." She said quietly as tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked and they fell as he walked straight past her. Daryl grabbed the saddle off the stand.

"Urgh!" He grunted angrily, tossing the saddle as far as he could throw it in his current state. He was pissed. What kind chance did that give Sophia if even her own mother was giving up on her now? "Stupid bitch." He grumbled, holding his aching side, as he stomped off.

…

"Ah, there you are." Sam said when Daryl enter the tent in a huff. For awhile she had been worried he might have tried going out after Sophia by himself again. "You okay?" She asked, concerned when she saw the terrible mood he was in.

"Do you think we should give up lookin' for Sophia?" He asked shortly.

"Of course not." Sam replied without having to think. "What's wrong? Is this about the stuff Shane said?"

"No." He replied tartly. "I… I yelled at Carol."

Sam blinked and took a moment to connect the dots. Carol must have been shaken by what happened and stopped him from going out and searching, even though it was obvious he really wanted to.

"Did she deserve it?" Sam asked, frowning slightly. It was a rhetorical question, really. They both already knew the answer to that.

"Not completely." Daryl admitted, sullenly.

"Then I think you already know what you have to do." She replied calmly. Daryl nodded and quietly left the tent, feeling much calmer.

…

"You see it?" Daryl asked Carol as he led her over to the pond.

"See what?" She asked. Daryl pointed past the wild brambles and mosquito grass to another blooming Cherokee rose bush that he had found. He had decided to show it to her since this one was closer to camp and still in a relatively safe area.

"I'll find her." He said, glancing at her. "Hey, I'm sorry about what happened this morning." He apologized quietly.

"You wanted to look for her." Carol said. "Why? This whole time I've wanted to ask you."

" 'Cause I think she's still out there." He replied. "Truth is, what else I got to do?" Carol was silent for a moment before she reached out and touched one of the roses.

"We'll find her." Carol said softly. "We will. I see it."

…

Sam was chilling on the porch with her foot propped up, watching while Beth and Rose watched Carl and Patricia play checkers. Glenn and Maggie were sitting side by side on the steps. For some reason, he was wearing Dale's hat.

"You look like you should be in line for the early bird special." Maggie teased Glenn, smiling. She removed the fishing hat for him. "Go get your cap. I'll wash it for you, okay?" Glenn smiled back as he stood up, getting ready to go do just that when Andrea and T-Dog walked up.

"Do you know what's going on?" T-Dog asked.

"Where is everyone?" Andrea asked.

"Daryl went off with Carol awhile ago, and Brandon is probably helping Lori out with… whatever, but I'm not sure about the others." Sam replied, furrowing her brow slightly. Was something wrong?

"You haven't seen Rick?" Glenn asked.

"He went off with Hershel." Andrea said. "We were supposed to leave a couple of hours ago."

"Yeah you were." Daryl quipped as he walked up with Carol. "What the hell?"

"Rick told us he was going out." Carol said, referring to herself, Lori, and Brandon. He had stopped by briefly just before Daryl came to get her.

"Damn it. Isn't anybody taking this seriously?" Daryl asked. "We got us a damn trail. Oh, here we go." He said when he spotted Shane, who was also making his way towards the house. Sam frowned when she saw what he had with him. Why was Shane carrying a shotgun and the bag of guns? Did Rick know about this.

"What's all this?" Daryl asked.

"You with me, man?" Shane asked, handing him the shotgun.

"Yeah." Daryl said, cocking it.

"Shane, no." Sam said, grabbing her crutches and getting to her feet.

"Time to grow up." Shane told everyone, ignoring her. "You already got yours?" He asked Andrea.

"Yeah." She replied, glancing around. "Where's Dale?"

"He's on his way." Shane replied somewhat cryptically.

"Thought we couldn't carry." T-Dog said as Shane put a handgun in his hand.

"We can and we have to." Shane told him.

"This has 'bad idea' written all over it." Sam told him. She agreed something had to be done, but not like this. He was going to get everyone thrown off the farm.

"Look, it was one thing sitting around here picking daisies when we thought this place was supposed to be safe, but now we know it ain't." Shane said, glancing at her and Maggie and the others.

"How about you, man?" Shane asked, holding a shotgun out to Glenn. "You gonna protect yours?"

Glenn took the gun.

"That's it." Shane said, grinning at him. "Can you shoot?" He asked Maggie.

"Can you _stop_?" She retorted. "You do this, you hand out these guns, my dad will make you leave tonight."

"We have to _stay_ Shane." Carl said, stepping down. They still had to find Sophia.

"What is this?" Lori asked as she and Brandon walked over from the around the corner of the porch.

"Why does everyone have guns again?" Brandon asked.

"We ain't going anywhere, okay?" Shane said. "Now look, Hershel, he's just gotta understand. Okay" Well, he—he's gonna have to."

"It doesn't work like that, and you know it." Sam said sternly. Hershel still saw the walkers as people. If they shot them while he felt that way, he wasn't going to see them as anything other than murders.

"Shut up. Just shut up!" Shane snapped at her. "You think you know everything just because you survived out there for over a month on your own, huh? You really expect me to believe that when you can't even save yourself from a snake_!_?"

"Hey, back off!" Brandon said defensively, moving over to stand by her. Rose growled at Shane.

"I told you not to talk to her like that." Daryl told Shane, glaring at him. He might agree with Shane about the walkers in the barn, but he better not do anything to Sam. Shane took note of the warning in Daryl's eyes and decided to back off before he lost a dependable ally.

"Now, we need to find Sophia. Am I right?" Shane asked, turning his attention to Carl as he knelt down in front of the boy. "Huh? Now I want you to take this." He told him, holding out a small pistol. "You take it, Carl, and you keep your mother safe. You do whatever it takes. You know how. Go on, take the gun and do it."

"Rick said no guns." Lori practically snarled at Shane as she placed herself between him and her son, pushing the boy behind her protectively. She was furious that he would try to drag Carl into this. "This is not your call. This is not your decision to make."

"Oh, shit." T-Dog said, getting their attention. They all turned to see what he was staring at and saw Jimmy clapping, trying to keep the attention of the two walkers that Rick and Hershel were guiding out of the woods and through the fenced in cattle run to the barn using some catch-poles that Hershel must have had on hand for unruly animals in his vet practice.

"Oh my god." Sam breathed, stunned. She knew they had to have gotten the walkers in the barn somehow, but that was just insane.

"What is that?" Shane asked as he took a few steps forward. _"What is that?"_ He asked as he took off running, followed close behind by everyone else except, Sam, who was having trouble keeping up on her crutches, and Brando, who stayed behind to help her and keep and eye on her. She took the precaution of ordering Rose to 'stay' on the porch. _"What the hell are you doing?" _Shane demanded as he ran up to Rick.

"Shane, just back off." Rick said. He was having enough trouble holding onto the walker at the other end of his pole without him badgering them or running around exciting it.

"Why do your people have guns?" Hershel asked.

"Are you _kidding _me?" Shane asked incredulously. "You see? You see what they're holding onto?" He asked the others.

"I see _who_ I'm holding onto." Hershel retorted.

"No, man, you don't." Shane told him.

"Shane, just let me do this then we can talk." Rick said, trying to calm him down.

"What you want to talk about, Rick?" Shane demanded. "These things ain't sick. They're not people. _They're dead._ Ain't gonna feel nothing for them 'cause all they do, the kill! These things right here, they're the things that killed Amy. They killed Otis. They're gonna kill all of us."

"Shane, shut up!" Rick shouted at him as Daryl came up and trained his rifle on the one he was handling, just in case it managed to break free. This was _not _what they needed right now.

"Hey, Hershel man, let me ask you something." Shane said as he walked around to stand between them and the barn. "Could a living, breathing person," He drew his gun and cocked it, "could they walk away from this?"

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"No!" Rick shouted as Shane raised hi gun and shot the zombie Hershel was handling three times in the torso. "Stop it!"

"That's three rounds in the chest." Shane said, ignoring Rick. "Could some who's alive, could they just take that? Why is it still coming?"

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

"That's its heart, its lungs—why is it still coming?" Shane demanded, shooting it two more times.

"Shane, _enough!"_ Rick shouted as Sam and Brandon finally joined them.

"Yeah, you're right, man." Shane said as he start walking towards them. "That is enough." He raised his gun and put another bullet in the walker's forehead, blowing her brains out right in front of Hershel's own eyes. With that, the walker finally fell down dead at his feet as Shane kept walking. Hershel fell to his knees beside the corpse.

"_Enough_ risking our lives for a little girl who's _gone_!" Shane shouted as he continued to rant. Sam and Brandon went over to Carol when she gasped, horrified that he would even say that in front of her. "_Enough_ living next to a barn full of things that are trying to kill us! _Enough_. Rick, it ain't like it was before! Now if y'all want to live, if you want to survive, you gotta fight for it! I'm talking about fighting right here, right now!" Shane shouted, heading for the barn doors.

"Take the snare pole." Rick told Jimmy, but the boy was frozen. "Hershel, take the snare pole." He said, turning to the older man. "Hershel, listen to me, man, please. _Take it now. Hershel! Take it!"_

"Arghh!" Shane roared as he started beating on the chained doors with the pickaxe, trying to force them open.

"No, Shane!" Rick shouted. "Do not do this, brother, wait!"

"Don't do it!" Glenn yelled.

"Cut it out, you dumbass!" Sam shouted. "You can't just let them all out at once!"

"Rick!" Lori yelled.

"Please!" Rick begged his friend. If he did this, they wouldn't be able to stay! Lori would…

"Come on," Shane said when he finally managed to break the chains. "Come on, we're out here." He said, throwing off the wooden bar, the last thing standing between them and the walkers, beating his hand against the door a few times to make sure he had their attention before retreating to a safer distance.

"This is not the way! _Please!"_ Rick yelled.

"Get behind me." Lori told Carl, trying to shield him from what was about to happen.

"Come on." Shane said as he aimed his gun at the barn doors, waiting for the walkers to throw them open and start coming out. When the first two emerged, Andrea and T-Dog ran up to cover Shane, and they all started firing as more began to stream out of the open doors. Daryl maneuvered himself closer to the action, positioning himself between Sam and Carol and the barn when one of the walkers tried to veer off to the side and head their way.

"Maggie." Glenn said, torn between helping his friends protect everyone and keeping out of it for her sake.

"It's okay." Maggie said, nodding, while she cried and held onto her father, who still hadn't moved since Shane put down the walker he had been handling.

"Sam." Brandon said, glancing questioningly at her as he placed a hand on his side. Sam's eyes widened slightly with comprehension, and she nodded.

"Do it." She told him. Now that it was done, the others were going to need all the help they could get. Brandon immediately lifted his shirt and drew his concealed gun from the harness he had been wearing underneath his clothes all along. The first thing he did was take out the walker Rick was still busy trying to hold onto.

_BANG!_

Rick glanced over at him as the walker fell down dead, stunned. It had been a perfect shot between the eyes. He watched as Brandon turned his attention back to the walkers from the barn and moved up to cover Daryl. Despite having never fired a gun in front of any of them before, Brandon proved to be an even better shot than Andrea.

"My brother taught him." Sam explained calmly when she saw Carol staring, glancing at her. "He doesn't look it, but he's pretty good, for an idiot."

"Stop!" Rick shouted as the gunfire continued. But they didn't stop, not until every last walker was down. Dale walked up just in time to see the terrible aftermath.

And then, when it was completely silent, they realized they could hear a soft growl coming from within the barn. There was still one left. They all froze when it stepped into view. None of them had been prepared for what they saw. The walker was blonde little girl wearing a royal blue shirt with a rainbow on it, cargo capris, and a running shoes. Brandon glanced around, confused when he saw that everyone's guns were lowered and realized no one wanted to shoot. Sam's eyes were wide with shock and horror as she stared a head at it. Carol let out a soft sob beside her. She knew the other woman's heart was breaking more and more with every second.

"Sophia?" Carol cried out as she took of running to her daughter.

"Carol, wait!" Sam shouted, but she was too slow to catch her. Fortunately, Daryl was on the case. He grabbed her as she tried to run past him, holding her back for her own safety.

"Sophia! Sophia!" Carol sobbed as she collapsed to her knees, taking Daryl down with her as he kept a firm grip on the distraught woman. "Sophia…"

"No." Carl cried as his mother held onto him.

"Don't watch." Lori told him a tear fell from her eye. Sam glanced around at the others. Brandon looked confused, like he didn't know whether he should shoot or not anymore, because he was the only one who still had his gun raised. No one else in their group had the guts to shoot Sophia. They couldn't bear it. If Sam was honest with herself, she couldn't say for sure whether she'd be able to go through with or not herself if she had a gun, but it needed to be done. They couldn't just leave her like that. And anyway, it wasn't Sophia anymore, not really. She watched as Rick took a breath, steeled his nerve and began walking towards Sophia. He drew the Python as he stepped past Shane and took aim. He stared at what was left of the scared little girl he had been trying so hard to save.

He pulled the trigger.


	22. Chapter 22

I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**Chapter 22: Trigger Finger**

* * *

Rick lowered his gun as he stared down at Sophia's dead corpse. He could still hear Carol sobbing heavily in the background. He slowly raised his head and turned to glanced at the others until his eyes settled on his wife and son. Lori was staring at him shock. Carl was no longer crying he just stared at his father, squinting in the sun. They were all staring at him, the people in their group, except for Carol, whose eyes were locked on the corpse of her daughter, Daryl who was still trying to hold her back, and Sam, who was limping towards them.

"Don't look." Daryl told Carol as he helped her back onto her feet. "Don't look."

"Eaah!" Carl let out a strangled cry as she suddenly pushed away from him. She stumbled backwards, nearly bumping into Sam.

"Carol—" Sam said, reaching out to her, but Carol slapped her hand away and took off running in the opposite direction, running as far away from the scene of her daughter's death as her legs could carry her.

"Should we follow her?" Brandon asked as he put his gun away.

"No. Give her some space." Sam replied as they and Daryl stared after her. "She just lost her daughter, and we're the ones who kept building up her hope the most." Daryl glanced at her. "I have a feeling she won't want to see our faces for awhile, even though she knows our feelings were genuine and it wasn't our fault." She finished, glancing back at him to let him know it was meant for him too. Daryl looked away, glancing back at the pile of bodies outside the barn.

"Come on, let's go." He said, placing an arm around her shoulders as they walked away together, with Brandon on their tail.

…

After waiting a while to give her some space and time to cry without other people around to stare at her, Daryl, Sam, and Brandon started looking for Carol. They found her in the RV. Carol looked up them with a tear-stained face. Upon seeing her expression, the three of them said nothing. They all just quietly took a seat—Sam on the bench across from her, Daryl on the kitchen counter, and Brandon on the floor. Nothing they could say would bring Sophia back or make Carol hurt any less for losing her, but maybe having them nearby would help to quietly remind her that she was not alone. Together, in that cramped RV, the four of them sat in silence until Lori eventually came to get them for the funeral.

"You ready?" Lori asked Carol gently.

Carol shook her head.

"Come on." Lori said softly, trying to encourage her.

"Why?" Carol asked quietly.

" 'Cause that's your little girl." Daryl said. Carol glanced up at him and shook her head.

"That's not my little girl." She told him. "It's some other… thing." Carol turned her head to stare out the window as she continued. "My Sophia was alone in the woods, all this time I thought… She didn't cry herself to sleep. She didn't go hungry. She didn't try to find her way back. Sophia died a long time ago." She said calmly. Lori glanced at Daryl and Sam before backing out of the RV and leaving. Sam glanced at the guys. Brandon was staring sadly at the floor in front of him. Daryl had his head bowed, but she noticed one of the muscles around his mouth twitched before he hopped off the counter and took off. He was not a happy camper, and she could understand why. She glanced back at Carol, watching her for a moment.

"Come on, Brandon." Sam said, patting him on the shoulder, as she grabbed her crutches and slid out of the booth. "Let's go pay our respects."

…

Everyone had been present for the three funerals except Carol.

"What are you going?" Brandon asked when saw that Sam was packing up. He noticed Daryl's stuff was already gone from the tent.

"Daryl's gone back to our other campsite." She said. "And I don't really feel like staying here, either. I like most of the people in this group, but… they're different after the incident at the barn, and Shane's more unhinged than ever before."

"If he left you behind, doesn't that mean he wants to be on his own?" Brandon asked. Sam shot him a look that let him know she didn't want to hear that and continued packing.

"Maybe, but I want to be with him, so tough." She huffed. "Let me tell you this: humans are social animals by nature. If you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it's not necessarily because they enjoy being completely alone, it's because they've tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them." Brandon smiled wryly. She should have been a psychologist instead of an artist.

"Well, you can't walk all that way on that ankle." He told her, causing her to glance up at him. "But if you really feel that strongly about it, maybe I can give you a lift."

…

"Moving to the suburbs?" Lori asked as she approached Daryl at his campsite by the chimney. He didn't answer, just kept whittling down the stick in his hand with his knife. "Listen, Beth's in some kind of Catatonic shock. We need Hershel."

"Yeah. So what?" He asked.

"So I need you to run into town real quick and bring him and Rick back." She said, squatting down next to him. Again, he didn't answer. He just kept carving away that stick.

"Daryl?" She said, prompting him for an answer. He finally glanced up at her once he saw that she wasn't going to just go away.

"Your bitch went window-shoppin'. You want him? Fetch him yourself." He told her cynically. "I've got better things to do."

"What's the matter with you?" She asked, furrowing her brow. "Why would you be so selfish?"

"Selfish?" He asked, standing up. What world was she living in? "Listen to me, Olive Oil. I was out there lookin' for that little girl every single day. I took a bullet and an arrow in the process. Don't you tell me about gettin' my hands dirty!" He shouted, waving the knife. "You want those two idiots? Have a nice ride. I'm done lookin' for people." He said, sitting back down. Lori stared at him for a moment in disbelief before turning and walking off in a huff, marching straight past Sam and Brandon.

"Geez, what's her problem?" Sam asked as Brandon wheeled her into camp. Daryl raised an eyebrow at the sight of Brandon pushing the petite brunette and her stuff over in a wheelbarrow. Rose was following behind them, and she started wagging her tail when she saw her favorite redneck.

"Nice ride." He commented.

"Thanks. He does windows, too." Sam replied, smiling slightly.

"But they cost extra." Brandon added as he set the wheel barrow down and helped her climb out of it.

"I'm never getting rid of you, am I?" Daryl asked Sam.

"Nope." She said, smiling, as she plopped down on the ground beside him.

"Meanwhile, I'll be over there, enjoying the last traces of civilization." Brandon told them, pointing back at the farmhouse and other camp. He had to return the wheelbarrow anyway. "Holler if you need anything, and I'll coming running." He told Sam, winking at her, as he began wheeling it away. He wanted to get back before the sun set.

…

Brandon was carrying the salad from the kitchen to the dining room when Andrea and Shane strolled in to take their seats at the table.

"They should've been back by now." Andrea said, referring to Rick, Glenn, and Hershel.

"Yeah. They just got holed up somewhere." Shane as he sat down at the head of the table. "We'll—We'll head out first thing in the morning." He cleared his throat as Brandon set the salad down next to him on the corner of the table. "Thanks." He said, immediately helping himself. Carol came out and handed the bread basket to Andrea. She had helped to cook supper despite her loss. She seemed to be taking the death of her daughter relatively well, all things considered. Brandon couldn't help but notice how worried Carl looked. He was about to say something, when Shane beat him to it.

"Carl, I want you to keep your head up, okay?" Shane told the boy. "Your old man, he's the toughest son of a—"

"No cussin' in the house." Patricia scolded him seriously.

"Sorry." Shane apologized, smirking slightly.

Brandon furrowed his brow slightly in confusion. It was such a drastic change between the Shane now and the Shane who let the walkers loose from the barn…

"Lori, Dinner." Carol called into the next room as Patricia, Maggie, and Jimmy joined them at the table.

"She's not there." Maggie, who had just come from there, told her.

"Where is she?" Dale asked. Maggie glanced back at him. She didn't know. Brandon noticed how worried everyone suddenly seemed to be.

"Carl, when's the last time you saw your mom?" Shane asked.

"This afternoon." Carl replied.

"She was worried about Rick, asked me to look in on Carl." Andrea said.

"She went after them?" Dale asked.

"She didn't say that." Andrea said quickly before they could start to panic.

"I saw her when I dropped Sam off at Daryl's." Brandon said. "It looked like she was heading for the camp or the house."

"Nobody panic." Shane said as they all started getting up from the table to look for her. "She's gotta be around here somewhere."

…

Daryl was stirring the fire with a long stick while Sam skinned and gutted the squirrels he and Rose had caught, getting them ready for cooking. Rose was nestled comfortably between their two camping chairs. She raised her head as Carol came jogging up with Brandon.

"We can't find Lori." Brandon announced while Carol was still catching her breath.

"And the others aren't back yet either." Carol added.

"What? Really?" Sam asked, kind of worried. She figured Rick and Glenn could take care of themselves, but Lori would probably get eaten alive out there, literally.

"Yeah. That dumb bitch must've gone off lookin' for 'em." Daryl replied a little less caringly. They all glanced at him.

"What?" Carol asked.

"Is that what she came to talk to you about earlier?" Brandon asked.

"Yeah, she asked me to go." Daryl told them. "I told her I was done being an errand boy."

"And you didn't say anything?" Carol asked incredulously. Daryl didn't reply. He just continued to tend to the fire.

"He probably didn't think she'd be stupid enough to go alone." Sam said in his defense. She thought Lori was an idiot, in fact, Brandon was now officially smarter than her. He would have at least told someone before going of into danger on his own. Carol sighed as she shook her head at them and walked away.

"I wonder why she didn't ask me. I was right there after Daryl turned her down." Brandon said, scratching his head. "Well, I'll let you know what happens." He told Sam as he turned to follow Carol, but he had to step back when they almost bumped into each other because Carol and turned around and come back.

"Don't so this. _Please._" Carol said, looking at Daryl. "I've already lost my little girl." Sam glanced between the two of them. What was she? Chopped liver? Daryl threw the stick down and stood up.

"That wasn't my problem neither." He told her, fuming, as he walked off to get more wood for the fire. Carol glanced at Sam, looking for help.

"He's just upset." Sam said, keeping her voice low so he wouldn't hear. Sometimes it was easier to pretend to be mad than to admit you were hurt or disappointed. "I'd help you look for her, but with this ankle, I'll just end up being a liability if there's any real trouble."

"It's okay, Sam. We got this." Brandon told her. "Come on, let's get back to the others." He told Carol. "You never know, they may even be back already."

…

"Ain't you gonna yell at me?" Daryl asked Sam after a moment of silence after he returned with the wood.

"Would it make you feel better if I did?" She asked, glancing up at him.

"No." He said, furrowing his brow slightly.

"Then I won't." She replied simply. "I'm glad you didn't go. You're still getting over your injury, and Rick and Glenn are more than capable of taking care of themselves. Lori's stupid for going after them on her own when she knows she can't even fight. I hope they find her before something happens, but it'll be no one's fault but her own if something does." It might sound cold, but it was true. She didn't wish death by walkers on her, Lori really got on her nerves sometimes with how high and mighty she could be. "But don't worry. I bet she's like Brandon, 'too dumb to die'." It wasn't just his shooting skills that had kept him alive, Brandon had always had always possessed an exceptional amount of luck, the 'luck of the dumb' some people used to called it.

"Hnh." Daryl laughed. Yeah, he could see that. He had a bit more respect for Brandon after seeing him shoot, though. "What are you makin'?"

"My grandfather's favorite backwoods special." She replied, smiling. "Squirrel delight—with mushrooms."

"Better not be those shrooms you found in Alabama." He replied.

"Oh no, those were all—" She started, freezing mid-sentence. "He _told_ you, didn't he?" She asked, narrowing her eyes dangerously as she began to contemplate the ways she was going to make Brandon pay.

"Yes, he did." Daryl replied, smirking slightly, as he leaned back in his chair, pleased with himself and whatever chaos he had just unleashed upon Brandon.

…

When Carol walked back over to their camp later on, she noticed Rose was curled up on top of an old blanket underneath one of the trees by the tent. She didn't seen anyone by the fire, but she did see that one of them had set up a line between two trees and hung some animal skins out to dry. It was mostly squirrels, but there was a rabbit and even a stoat up there too. That wasn't too disturbing until she saw the ears. Daryl had somehow managed to get his walker-ear necklace back, because it was now on display in their camp.

_CRACK._

Carol nearly jumped out of her own skin when she heard something move behind her.

"What are you doin'?" Daryl asked as she spun around to face him. He was taking first watch while Sam tried to get some shut-eye in the tent before her shift.

"God." Carol gasped, relieved it was just him. "Keeping an eye on you."

"Ain't you a peach." He replied sardonically. What, was she _spying _on them now? She shouldn't be out here alone at night. He was surprised Brandon wasn't with her.

"I'm not gonna let you pull away." Carol told him. "You've earned your place."

_His place?_ Who said he wanted one? He was fine right where he was! And what about Sam? She got bit by a snake while trying to find her daughter, and she still couldn't walk on it properly yet. Why was it just him she was trying so hard to get back? Looking and listening to Carol, all of his anger, frustration, and disappointment from not being able to find Sophia alive and well after everything he did to find her came rushing back to the surface.

"If you spent half your time mindin' your daughter's business instead of stickin' your nose in everybody else's, she'd still be alive!" He snapped at her.

"Go ahead." She said meekly, bracing herself.

"Go ahead and what?" Daryl asked, staring at her. Go ahead and hit her? Is that what kind of man she thought he was? "I mean just go!" He told her, waving his hand. "I don't want you here." Carol just continued to stare at him. "You're a real piece of work, lady. What are you gonna make this about my daddy or some crap like that? Pfft! Man, you don't know jack. You're afraid. You're afraid 'cause you're all alone. You got no husband, no daughter. You don't know what to do with yourself. You ain't my problem! _Sophia wasn't mine!"_ He shouted, raising his voice at the end. _"All you had to do was keep an eye on her!"_

Carol finally flinched at the volume of his voice, but she didn't leave.

"Would you quit yellin'? I'm trying to sleep in here." Sam complained drowsily as she poked her head out of the tent, squinting at them in the dark. "You two always fight, and then you regret it later, so how about we just forget the rest of the drama this time and skip to the part where everyone's friends again?" She asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Did you even hear a word I just said?" Daryl asked, furrowing his brow as he and Carol both stared at her.

"Nope." Sam replied bluntly. "I just woke up and haven't the foggiest what all the fuss is about, but you need to calm down, because there's who knows how many walkers in the woods behind us, so there." She said, disappearing back inside the tent before zipping it up again.

"You see what I have to put up with?" Daryl asked Carol, pointing to the tent. Carol smiled slightly as they both couldn't help but laugh. Sam had some how managed to completely break the tension between them with her sudden reappearance.

"She's a good girl." Carol said.

"She's a good woman." Daryl corrected her.

…

"Are you sure?" Sam asked Daryl. When Brandon came to see them the next morning to let them know that Lori was back safe and sound despite getting herself into a car accident somehow, he had also come bearing the news that Rick, Glenn, and Hershel still hadn't returned, so Shane was getting together a group to go after them, and Daryl had decided to go.

"I'll be fine." He told her, pulling his leather vest on over the long-sleeve shirt he was wearing.

"With Shane at the helm? He's lost people before." She reminded Daryl, exchanging a knowing glance with him. "We both know he doesn't want Rick back, or Hershel."

"He doesn't?" Brandon asked, furrowing his brow slightly in confusion. Sam and Daryl resisted the urge to roll their eyes at his slowness.

"With them gone, he's got everything he wants and no one to tell him otherwise." Sam explained patiently while Daryl shook his head.

"Oh." Brandon said, glancing between the two of them. Is that why they wanted to stay so far away from the group? Because of Shane?

"Yeah." Sam said, taking a sip of water.

"Rick would do it for me." Daryl said, looking straight at her. "He'd go if it was one of us." Sam stared at him for a moment and sighed, knowing he was right.

"Just be careful." She said, smiling wryly.

"I'm always careful when I'm risking my life." Daryl replied, smirking slightly, as he grabbed his crossbow. Brandon smiled.

"Come on, hop on." He told Sam, squatting down so she could get on his back so he could carry her. "When they get back with Hershel, you can have him take a look at that ankle and see if it's safe for you to walk on yet."

…

Just when Shane, Daryl, T-Dog, and Andrea were almost finished getting ready to go, a familiar red and white vehicle appeared on the horizon, driving down the dirt road that led to the farm. It was Rick, Hershel, and Glenn. They were back.

"Dad!" Carl shouted, running out to meet his father, as the three of them climbed out of the car, and everyone came over to check on them. Brandon noticed the less that thrilled look on Shane's face as he watched Lori hug Rick and decided Sam and Daryl had been right. Shane probably really hadn't wanted Rick or Hershel back alive. He was starting to think maybe he should join them at their separate camp. Sam noted from her spot on the porch steps that despite how happy Hershel was to see Maggie running towards him, he was obviously disappointed when she ran straight past him and threw her arms around Glenn. Ouch. That had to hurt, but Hershel shrugged it of and continued walking towards the house, dignity intact. Both Sam and Maggie were surprised when Glenn seemed to give her the brush off. That was weird… Normally Glenn would have been overjoyed.

"Patricia, prepare the shed for surgery." Hershel said as he passed her and Jimmy on his way into the house. He need to grab his medical kit. "I'll take another look at your ankle later." He told Sam.

"Did something happen?" Sam asked, furrowing her brow with concern, but he didn't answer. She knew they must've run into trouble, because there was blood on his shirt. He just continued on into the house. He must be tired after staying out all night.

"Are you hurt?" Lori asked Rick.

"No, but what happened to you?" Rick asked Lori, noticing all of her bruises.

"I was in a car accident." She replied.

"Accident? How?" He asked, furrowing his brow with confusion.

"I went looking for you." She said.

"Snuck out on her own." Shane told Rick. "I brought her back."

"Are you _crazy_?" Rick whisper-yelled at her. Did she even realize how _dangerous _that was? "You could've—"

"Who the hell is that?" T-Dog asked abruptly, pointing. They all glanced back at the car, where he was pointing to, and realized they was still an extra passenger inside.

"That's Randall." Glenn replied.

"Why is he blindfolded?" Brandon asked, moving over to stand beside Sam while the others all moved in closer to get a better look with Daryl and Shane in the lead.

"Because they didn't want him to know how to get here." Sam replied, frowning slightly. She watched as Rick asked Shane and Daryl to help them get their unwanted visitor to the shed so Hershel could operate on him. She had a bad feeling about this…

…

"We couldn't just leave him behind." Rick said. They had all gathered inside the house to hear the explanation behind what happened in town and how an injured stranger ended up in the back of their car. "He would have bleed out, if he lived that long."

"What do you mean if?" Brandon asked.

"It's gotten bad in town." Glenn explained.

"What do we do with him?" Andrea asked.

"I repaired his calf muscle as best I can," Hershel announced as he joined them in the dining room, having just finished cleaning up after surgery, "But he'll probably have nerve damage."

"Will the damage impair his ability to walk or run, or is it only going to affect his ability to feel pain in that area?" Sam asked.

"It's too soon to tell." Hershel replied. "Won't be on his feet for at least a week."

"When he is, we give him a canteen, take him out to the main road, send him on his way." Rick said.

"Isn't that the same as leaving him for the walkers?" Andrea asked as Daryl rejoined them, entering quietly through the front door. He had been helping Hershel during the surgery by holding him down until the anesthesia took effect. Sam and Carol glanced at him and smiled, glad he had decided to join them instead of going off to brood alone. He came over to stand next to Sam.

"He'll have a fighting chance." Rick replied. More than he would have stuck on that fence.

"You just gonna let him go?" Shane asked. "He knows where we are."

"He was blindfolded the whole way here. He's not a threat." Rick insisted.

"Not a threat. How many of them were there?" Shane asked again. "You killed three of their men, you took one of them hostage, but they just ain't gonna come looking?"

"They left him for dead." Rick said. "_No one_ is looking."

"We should still post a guard." T-Dog said.

"I agree." Sam said. "Or at least lock the shed door while no one's with him."

"He's out cold right now, will be for hours." Hershel said.

"You know what? I'm gonna go get him some flowers and candy." Shane said cynically as he started walking off. "Look at this, folks—we're back in fantasyland."

"You know, we haven't even dealt with what you did at my barn yet." Hershel said sternly, stopping Shane. "Let me make this perfectly clear, once and for all—this is _my _farm. Now, I wanted you gone. Rick talked me out of it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. So do us both a favor—keep your mouth shut."

Sam had to suppress a smirk. All right. You tell him, Hershel. Honestly, it was about time someone told Shane what was what. She was just a little concerned for the old man now that he had shamed Shane in front of everyone. She didn't like the look in his eyes as he scoffed and walked off.

"We're not gonna do anything about it today." Rick told everyone. "Let's just cool off." Meeting adjourned.

"Now, let's have a look at that ankle of yours." Hershel told Sam as the others started to leave, pulling up a chair so he could sit down while examining it. Daryl, Brandon, and Carol stayed behind to hear his prognosis. "Mhm. I see…" Hershel mumbled to himself as he looked over her ankle. There was a light scar where the snake had bitten her, but other than that there were obvious signs of any remaining damage. "Now flex your foot and wiggle your toes for me." He told her. She did as he asked without any problem. He nodded, satisfied with the results. "Looks like you'll be just fine." He said, setting her foot back down. "You can start using it again, but take it easy. Try not to do any heavy-duty walking or running for at least another day."

"Yes, sir." Sam replied happily, letting out a sigh of relief, and smiling as she pulled her sock back on. Brandon smiled and glanced at Daryl, who seemed pleased with the news. Carol also looked happy for her, though she was a little jealous of how close Daryl was standing to her.


	23. Chapter 23

I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**Chapter 23: Little Talks**

* * *

A week had passed, and Rick and Shane were getting ready to take Randall away from the farm and release him back into the wild.

"Are you sure about this?" Sam asked Rick quietly. She had come to see him off after hearing it was just going to be him and Shane going. "At least take another person with you."

"Don't worry. The two of us can handle Randall, easy." Rick told her, smiling wryly. Was it just him, or was Sam acting a little strange today.

"It's not Randall I'm worried about." She told him, glancing meaning fully at Shane, who was leaning against the car a few yards away, waiting for Rick. Rick glanced at her. She knew. She thought Shane was dangerous, too, just like Lori did after talking to Dale.

_HOOONK._

"Come on, let's go man!" Shane shouted impatiently. The sooner they got this shit over with the better.

"I need to talk to Shane alone." Rick told her. "I'll be fine." He added as he turned and walked away to join Shane. Sam sighed and shook her head as she also turned away and began heading back to her camp with Daryl. She wasn't convinced, but she could see he wasn't going to listen to her, and it was time to go hunting.

"Hey, Sam!" Brandon shouted as he jogged up to her.

"Something wrong?" She asked, noticing the look on his face. She hadn't seen him this worried since he found out he had to get a certain score on the ACT in order to get into college.

"It's Beth. Earlier, when Lori brought her lunch, she tried to keep the knife and hide it under her pillow. They're afraid she's gonna hurt herself because she's depressed about everything that's happened." He explained quickly. "You should talk to her."

Sam froze in her tracks.

"Talk to her?" Sam asked in a dangerously calm tone of voice, eying him warily. "About _what_?"

"You know what?" Brandon replied seriously. "You heard what I said. Isn't she just like you were when—"

_"Shut up, Brandon."_ She hissed sternly, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "This is different. My talking to Beth won't do any good. I can't help her." She whispered emphatically, trying to make him understand. "And you can't tell anyone about _that_. I really won't forgive you if you do." He was still in deep trouble for telling Daryl and Andrea about the mushrooms.

"But—" He started to protest.

"No buts." She said firmly as she walked away, leaving him behind to stare after her in confusion, wondering why she refused to help.

…

"What took you so long?" Daryl asked Sam when she got back. "I almost left without you. "Somethin' wrong?" He asked when he noticed the troubled look on her face. She didn't reply. She just bit her lip and stared at the ground.

"Look, I'm not that good at givin' advice, but I'm a good listener. And you've listened to me plenty, so why don't you let me return the favor?" He suggested, causing her to finally glance back up at him. He was genuinely concerned, she could see that. He wasn't just asking out of idle curiosity. Sam bit her lip again before taking a breath and rolling up her sleeves to expose the tattoos on her wrists and forearms.

"You see these tattoos?" She asked. "Ever wonder how I got them?"

"It's crossed my mind once or twice." He replied calmly, waiting to hear the answer.

"… I got them because I was suffering from a severe case of major depression." She explained solemnly. Daryl blinked but didn't say anything. "About six years ago, I suddenly started feeling really depressed, and I knew I had no reason to. I was scared because I thought I must be going crazy or something, especially when I started having suicidal thoughts even though there was nothing wrong with my life. I was happy. I should've been happy, and I knew that. There was no trauma, no drama—it's like something inside me just broke and it kept getting worse and worse, to the point where it even hurt just to breathe—I mean, physically, even. I knew they'd be hurt if I committed suicide, and that was the only reason why I never went through with it, why I refrained from cutting myself. I call Brandon stupid, but in my family, I've always been the slow one. I knew they'd notice and realize something was wrong if I hurt myself. I finally told my parents after I caught myself about to subconsciously miss one of the steps at school on purpose." She said quietly, pausing to take another breath after her deepest, darkest secret had just come tumbling out of her mouth, closing her eyes to keep the tears that threatened to spill because of the memories playing through her mind. "I was hospitalized for about a month, but I didn't end up stuck in there forever like I had been so afraid might happen. It was hard, but compared to all the pain and suffering I went through, getting better was so ridiculously easy, that I wanted to cry over how stupid I'd been for not getting help sooner. It turned out my depression was being caused by a simple chemical imbalance. All I had to do was take a couple of pills to correct that, and after a month of learning how to be 'normal' again, I was able to go back to living with my family and finish high school with my friends. Once I graduated and school regulations were no longer in my way, I got these tattoos. Even though the medicine treated my symptoms, the problem itself wasn't actually gone, and I was worried I might accidentally slip up… so I got these tattoos. I put art on my wrists so I'd be less likely to cut them. I'm an artist, so it's against my nature to ruin a masterpiece. They're here to make me think twice." She said softly, raising her wrists for him to see. "… And then, one day, just as suddenly as my depression came, it left. I got better." She said, sniffing, as she looked up at him with watery eyes. "Just like that. It's been in remission ever since." Daryl reached out and gently took her wrists his hands. She watched as he began tracing a couple of the flower petals with his thumb. "Brandon wants me to talk to Beth because they think she's suicidal, but _I can't_. Because her depression is different from mine. She's suffering because of something traumatizing that happened to her, not a random chemical imbalance. I don't know what to say to her to help her get better, because nothing anyone ever said could help me get over it. There was _nothing_ to get over. I just got better on my own… and I think that might be what Beth has to do too. Pretty words aren't worth a damn when you're trapped in your own hell. You have to _want_ to get better, or you'll never survive, no matter how much the people around you want to help. It's something you've got to find the strength to do on your own."

"… Why don't you tell Beth that?" Daryl asked. Sam glanced up at him. "You say you don't know what to say to her, but you'll regret it even more if you don't try, right? Screw the others! Who cares what they think? If they find out and start giving you trouble about your past, then we'll make trouble back. You're too tough to be crying and worrying over what others think." He said as he pulled her in and held her close, letting her hold onto him while she buried her face in his shirt and cried. "Go do what you have to. I've got this."

…

"Hey, Maggie?" Sam said as she walked into the kitchen. Maggie was sitting at the table, having a glass of lemonade.

"Yeah?" Maggie asked, looking up at her. Sam thought she looked tired, and Maggie thought she looked like she had been crying.

"I heard Beth was depressed, and I… well, I kind of have experience with that sort of thing, so I thought maybe I could help?" Sam suggested tentatively, biting her lip nervously. Maggie blinked, surprised.

"No. I mean, yeah, I-I'd appreciate that." Maggie said, nodding, as she stood up. "I can't seem to get through to her, but if you can…"

"I can't make any promises, but I'll give it my best." Sam told her, smiling slightly.

"She's in here." Maggie said, leading her to the front bedroom they were keeping Beth in. Maggie paused when they entered the room, frowning slightly in confusion. Her sister wasn't in the bed. She didn't seem to be in the room anymore. "Beth?" She called out as Sam followed her into the room.

"Over there." Sam said, pointing to the closed door on the far side of the room when she heard muffled sobbing coming from behind it.

"Beth?" Maggie called out as they crossed the room. "Beth?" She tried the door but it wouldn't open. Beth must have locked herself inside.

_CRASH!_ CLATTER!

"Oh my God." Sam said, exchanging a horrified glance with Maggie when they heard something glass being shattered inside.

"Beth!" Maggie shouted anxiously, banging on the door. "Beth!"

"Maggie, wait. If you keep beating the door like that, she might be less likely to open it for us." Sam told her as Lori opened the other door to the room.

"Maggie? Sam?" Lori asked, wondering what all the commotion was about.

"Beth's in there." Sam said.

"We heard glass." Maggie added.

"Beth, you all right?" Lori called out, coming over to help.

"Don't do this, Beth. Don't do this." Maggie pleaded as she continued her futile struggle against the locked door. "Open up, _please_."

"Isn't there a key or something?" Sam asked, noting the keyhole on the lock of the door while Beth continued to sob.

"Yes!" Maggie said, rushing over to retrieve it from the dresser. "God, I left her with Andrea." She exclaimed as she continued to search for the key.

"Where's the key?" Lori asked.

"I don't know." Maggie said. Why couldn't she find it?

"We'll have to find something else to open it with." Sam said, as Maggie came back over to the door.

"Beth, honey, please open the door." Maggie tried pleading with her sister again while Sam and Lori looked for something to pry the door open with. "I'm not mad. I'm not mad, Beth." Lori picked up the poker for the room's fireplace and glanced at Sam. Sam nodded in approval and graciously accepted it as Lori handed it to her and they hurried back over to the door.

"Maggie." Lori said, placing her hands on the other girl's shoulders as she guided her out of Sam's way so she could wedge the prongs of the fire poker into the doorframe and up against the knob for leverage.

"Hold on." Sam told them. "Beth, if you can hear me, stand away from the door." She called out, pausing for a beat to give her time to move out of the way before throwing her full weight on the lever to pry the door open.

BAM!

The door swung wide open, revealing a sobbing Beth. She had her back to them, standing in front of the bathroom sink. The mirror in front of her was broken.

"I'm sorry." Beth sobbed softly as she turned around to face them, holding her bleeding wrist.

"I'll get Hershel." Sam said, running off to get help as Maggie rushed forward into the bathroom to hold her crying sister.

"Okay. It's okay." Maggie told Beth, crying, as she led her sister back to the bed, hoping her father would be able to save her.

…

"Why… Why would she do that to herself?" Hershel wondered out loud as he wiped the sweat from his brow. _"To us?" _He had been holding it in the whole time he was stitching his youngest daughter's wrist back up, and she had been so exhausted after the whole ordeal, that she had fallen asleep. Maggie and Lori had gone out to confront Andrea for leaving Beth alone, but Sam was still there. She had helped him keep Beth calm while he was sewing her up.

"She never meant to hurt you or Maggie, Hershel." Sam said, sighing tiredly. "She just got scared. She was hurting so much she forgot about all the good things she still had left, about you and Maggie. But I don't think she will again, not for awhile." She said, patting him on the back. "The cut was shallow. That says a lot. It means she hesitated. I think she still wants to live, and she knows that now. It's a shame, but some people can't figure that out without risking everything. Let's just be glad you were able to save her. You look exhausted. Why don't you go lie down while I keep an eye on her. I promise I won't leave, and I send someone to wake you up when she does."

"Yes, thank you. I'd really appreciate that, Sam." Hershel told her, suddenly feeling a hell of a lot older after the scare Beth had just given him.

"… Is he gone?" Beth asked softly after they had been alone for a few minutes, slowly opening her eyes.

"Yeah, he's gone." Sam replied, taking a seat in the chair beside the bed. "I think you've managed to scare your poor father and sister half to death though."

"I didn't mean to." Beth replied sadly.

"I know you didn't." Sam told her, squeezing her hand gently. "Do you still want to die?"

"No." Beth said, shaking her head.

"Do you want to live?" Sam asked, watching carefully for her reaction. Beth bit her lip.

"I don't know… but I know I don't want to hurt them again." Beth replied thoughtfully.

"Then hold onto that thought." Sam told her as she rolled up her sleeves. "Do you like my tattoos?" Beth nodded.

"They're beautiful." She said. Sam smiled softly.

"They're cherry blossoms. Since ancient times, in Japan, these flowers have been an enduring metaphor for the ephemeral nature of life. The transience of the blossoms, the extreme beauty and quick death, has often been associated not just with mortality, but with the concept of blooming—living—as beautifully and fiercely as possible in whatever time we have, no matter how short. These tattoos are a reminder to live life to the fullest, even when times are tough." She explained. "I mean, every song ends, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't enjoy it and have fun dancing while it's still playing, right? And when one song on the record ends, a new one begins. It might not be as good as the previous one, but you can still dance if you can find something to like about its rhythm."

"You're an optimist, aren't you?" Beth asked.

"I suppose. I guess you could say I'm an optimist who carries a raincoat." Sam replied, smiling wryly. "I don't see much use in being anything else."


	24. Chapter 24

I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**Chapter 24: Judge, Jury, and Executioner**

* * *

Daryl paced the wooden floor of Hershel's shed while Randall panted heavily, frightened and in pain. His nose and lip were bleeding. They had all been surprised when Rick and Shane returned with their prisoner despite how adamant Rick had been about letting him go up until now. But the boy claimed to have gone to school with Maggie. Their attempts to blindfold him and keep their location a secret had all been in vain. He already knew all about her family and the farm's location, but they knew nothing at all about the group they had almost sent him back to—the same group of men who had tried to kill Rick, Hershel, and Glenn. They needed to know exactly what they were dealing with in order to better protect themselves before they could decide Randall's fate. Randall grunted in pain when Daryl threw another punch, knocking him off the chair. He groaned and whimpered in pain and fear while Daryl repeatedly and methodically dealt him several more blows.

"I told you—" Randall began to whine pathetically.

"You told me shit!" Daryl barked at him. He grabbed the boy and shifted him back into a sitting position on the floor as he slammed him back into the wall before backing off again, giving him another chance to talk.

"I barely knew those guys. I met 'em on the road." Randall insisted, breathing heavily.

"How many in your group?" Daryl demanded calmly. Randall hesitated. The redneck began to slowly draw his knife, making sure the boy could sense the implied threat and see just how big and sharp it was.

"Uh, no no no no no no no no. Come on, man." Randall pleaded, yelping, as Daryl stabbed the knife down into the floor between his legs, stopping just short of a very important piece of equipment.

_"How many!_?" Daryl demanded more insistently this time.

"Uh, thirty! Thirty. Thirty guys." Randall replied hastily.

"Where?" Daryl asked.

"Uh…" Randall said, trailing off, as if debating whether or not he should tell him. Daryl reached over and ripped the bandage off of his leg. "Ah-ha-ha!" Randall cried out in pain. "I don't know, _I swear_! We were never any place more than a night!"

"Scouting?" Daryl asked as he pulled his knife up from the floor. "Planning on staying local?" He placed the knife against what was left of the thick scab on the boy's leg.

"I—I don't know. They—They left me behind." Randall insisted nervously.

"Did you ever pick off a scab?" Daryl asked as he began slowly and carefully picking at the boy's wound with his knife.

"Come on, man!" Randall exclaimed, starting to panic. "I'm—I'm trying to cooperate!"

"Start real slow at first." Daryl told Randall, looking him in the eye as he continued his machinations.

"No." Randall grunted in pain, whimpering.

"Sooner or later, you've just got to _rip _it off." Daryl continued without mercy, trying to get the boy to talk.

"Urgh! Okay! _Okay."_ Randall said. "T-Th-They have weapons—heavy stuff, automatics." He stammered. "B-But I didn't do anything!"

"Your boys shot at my boys, tried to take this farm. You just went along for the ride? You're tryin' to tell me you're _innocent_?" Daryl demanded.

"Yes!" Randall shouted emphatically, panting. "These—These people took me in. Not just guys—a whole group of 'em. Men and women, uh, kids too—just like you people." He continued, encouraged when Daryl withdrew his knife and stood up, taking a couple steps back. "Thought I'd have a better chance with them, you know?"

Daryl stared down at the boy. His story behind joining that group sounded all too similar to Sam's reason for joining them.

"But…" Randall continued after a pause, lowering his voice. "We go out, scavenge—just the men. One night we—we found this little campsite. A man and his two daughters—teenagers, you know? Real young. Real cute." He said, glancing up at Daryl when the older man stopped pacing and looked back at him. Daryl did _not_ like where this was going. "Their daddy had to watch while these guys—they—and they didn't even kill him afterwards!" Randall said as Daryl slowly turned around to fully face him again. "They just—They just made him watch as his daughters—They j-just—just left him there." He noticed the look on Daryl's face. There was a dangerous look in the other man's eyes. "No, but-but—but I didn't touch those girls." Randall insisted, shaking his head. "No, I swear I didn't tou—" He yelped when the angry and disgusted redneck kicked him in the gut. "P-Please. _Please. _You gotta believe me, man." Randall whimpered. His voice was thick, like he was trying not to cry. "I'm not like that. I ain't like that." He insisted as he stared up at the grim-faced Daryl. "Please. Please, you gotta believe me…" Daryl grunted as he delivered a another swift and even harder kick. He was starting to have trouble controlling himself. Randall may not have touched those girls himself, but he hadn't done a thing to help them either. He had sat back and watched while a couple of young girls were raped, and he had the nerve to claim to be _innocent_? Randall screamed in pain from the force of the blow, but Daryl followed up with another punch, cutting it short. Daryl's temper was starting to get the better of him. If he wasn't careful, he just might end up killing the kid.

…

"So, what are you gonna do? " Lori asked as she poured hot water from the kettle into Carl's cup and handed it to him. Maggie had brought them a few packets of hot cocoa mix since the weather was getting cooler. "We'd all feel better if we knew the plan." They had all gathered around the fire while they waited for Daryl to return. Even Maggie was there to represent her father, who was busy elsewhere at the moment. After failing to get any decent answers from the conventional interrogation methods that Rick and Shane were used to using as cops, Daryl had volunteered to have a word alone with Randall, saying he knew a way to get him to talk. Sam had started pacing a little anxiously after awhile. She didn't like how long it was taking him.

"_Is_ there a plan?" Andrea asked while she, Carol, and Glenn all looked to Rick and Shane.

"We gonna keep him here?" Glenn asked. Rick and Shane exchanged a glance. That all depended on what Daryl found out.

"We'll know soon enough." Rick replied. Sam paused when she heard footsteps approaching, and the others followed her gaze to see that Daryl was approaching them. Sam furrowed her brow with concern when she noticed the knuckles on the hand holding the strap for his crossbow's sling were raw and bloody.

"Boy there's got a gang, thirty men." Daryl informed them as he walked up. "They have heavy artillery, and they ain't lookin' to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. And our women," He paused for a second, glancing briefly at Sam, before looking away and continuing, "they're gonna—they're gonna wish they were." Sam lowered her head and looked away. He didn't have to spell it out for her. She knew all too well what he meant by that.

"What did you do?" Carol asked, eyeing his wounded hand.

"Had a little chat." Daryl replied. Carol closed her eyes and turned away. Sam frowned slightly. What did she think he was doing in there, baking him a cake?

"Is he okay? Should we go check on him?" Brandon asked.

"No one goes_ near_ this guy." Rick said firmly. It was too dangerous.

"Rick, what are you gonna do?" Lori asked, approaching her husband.

"We have no choice." Rick told her, lowering his voice, before raising it again to address the rest of the group. "He's a threat. We have to eliminate the threat." He told them. After hearing what Daryl found out, Sam was inclined to agree, but it was disconcerting to hear something so Shane-like coming out of Rick's mouth…

"You're just gonna kill him?" Dale asked, staring at Rick in disbelief.

"It's settled." Rick said with a tone of finality that let no room for argument. "I'll do it today." He turned and walked away to begin making preparations. Dale immediately left to chase after him, leaving the rest of them behind by the fire. They all exchanged uneasy looks before quietly getting back to whatever it was they were doing before Rick called them all together.

"Come on." Sam said as she stepped over to Daryl. "Let's get that hand taken care of before it gets infected."

"It's fine." Daryl said, trying to shrug it off. It would heal on its own.

"No, it's not fine." Sam retorted sternly, frowning slightly in disapproval. "We're running low on antibiotics again. It could end up like that cut on T-Dog's arm if you aren't careful. Do you really want to take that risk?"

"Fine." Daryl relented with a sigh. He didn't think that would happen to him, but he had a feeling she wouldn't stop nagging him about it until he gave in, so he might as well save himself some grief. To be honest, he was just glad she wasn't lecturing him about what he had done to that kid in the shed.

…

"Don't worry. The bandage won't get in the way of shooting." Sam told Daryl as she expertly wrapped his freshly cleaned wound, correctly guessing his main reason for being so reluctant to agree to let her treat it in the first place. She knew one or two things about first aid and wrapping fists from being in Girls Scouts and having a rowdy big brother.

"I thought you'd be more upset with me." Daryl said guardedly, watching carefully for her reaction. Sam paused for a moment before continuing her ministrations.

"I am upset." She stated calmly. "I'm upset that you were put in that position. Rick—and Shane especially—were more than capable of doing that on their own, but they left it to you to do the dirty work. I'm usually against torture, and I wish you hadn't had to do it, but I understand why you did. We needed to know what we were really up against, and now we do."

"… Do you agree with Rick's decision?" Daryl asked curiously after taking a few moments to consider what she had just said.

"Whether I agree with it or not, he's doing it." She replied somewhat evasively as she began putting away the medical supplies she used to treat him. "To be honest, I'm trying not to think about it."

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." Daryl promised. He could tell by how tense she suddenly was that talking about Randall was making her nervous, scared even. Like a cornered animal, she had entered a natural 'fight or flight' mode just thinking about it.

"I know." She replied, smiling slightly, as she glanced back at him. "I won't let anything happen to you, either."

…

Sam and Daryl had returned to their own camp and were just getting ready to go hunting when Dale came walking up. Sam had already gotten started on the 'gathering' part of their post-apocalyptic hunting and gathering lifestyle. Daryl scoffed as he glanced up at the older man.

"The whole point of coming up here was to get away from you people." He told Dale as he continued to inspect the homemade arrows he and Sam had worked on making over the past week before choosing which ones to load into his quiver.

"Gonna take more than that." Dale told him. "Where's Sam?"

"Gone ahead. She's not as picky as me." Daryl replied as he continued about his business. "Carol and Brandon send you?"

"Carol and Brandon aren't the only ones who are concerned about you and your new _role_ in the group." Dale replied.

"Oh man, I don't need my head shrunk." Daryl told him. "This group's broken. Sam knows it too. Better off fending for ourselves."

"You act like you don't care." Dale remarked as he watched Daryl grab his leather vest and long-sleeved shirt from where it was hanging on the chimney.

"Yeah, it's 'cause I don't." Daryl replied carelessly as he pulled it on.

"So live or die, you don't care what happens to Randall?" Dale asked. He wondered what Sam would have to say about that.

"Nope." Daryl said, looking straight at him.

"Then why not stand with me, try to save the kid's life, if it really doesn't matter one way of the other?" Dale asked.

"Didn't peg you for a desperate son of a bitch." Daryl told him.

"Your opinion makes a difference." Dale said with conviction.

"Man, ain't nobody lookin' at me for nothin'." Daryl said stubbornly as he walked over to grab his crossbow.

"Carol is, and I am. Right now." Dale told him. "And you obviously have Sam's ear—you have Rick's ear."

"Rick just looks to Shane." Daryl retorted, turning back to face the old man. "Let him."

"You cared about what happened to Sophia." Dale said as Daryl turned away from him again. Daryl stopped and turned around again. "Cared what it meant to the group." Daryl started walking back towards him. "Torturing people? That isn't you. You're a decent man. So is Rick. Shane—he's different."

"Why's that?" Daryl asked calmly. " 'Cause he killed Otis?" Dale's face fell.

"He tell you that?" He asked grimly.

"He told some story—how Otis covered him, saved his ass." Daryl replied as Dale closed the distance between them. "Showed up with the dead guy's gun." Daryl hadn't needed anyone's help figuring out what that meant. "Rick ain't stupid." He said, shaking his head. Hell, Rick used to be a cop. He solved cases like that for a living. "If he didn't figure that out, it's 'cause he didn't wanna. It's like I said—group's broken." He told Dale as he turned and walked away, leaving Dale behind to ponder his words.

…

"What took you so long?" Sam asked Daryl when they met up again. Daryl had been following her tracks to find her, but she had already doubled back and seemed to be on her way back to camp. The woven basket she had made while her ankle was healing was already full to the brim with wild berries, edible roots, herbs, nuts, and mushrooms. Rose wagged her tail, happy to see him again even though it hadn't really been all that long since he last saw them.

"Dale. He came to talk about Randall." He replied. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds like Dale." She said. She didn't think he'd let Rick's decision to kill him go quietly. It was part of what she admired about the old man. "Well, I've gotta drop this off real quick before it spills and we end up loosing some of it. I thought I might set most of it out to dry. It's time to start saving up for winter, don't you think?"

"Yeah. Sounds good." Daryl agreed. The creek was starting to dry up and pretty soon a lot of the animals would be going into hibernation. Creating a food store while there was still plenty to spare was a good idea. They should probably start making more jerky to put away, too. Maybe they could turn the shed into an old fashioned smokehouse to store the meat from larger game.

"Okay." She said, nodding. "I'll catch up to you in a bit."

"Looks like it'll just be you and me for awhile." Daryl told Rose as he held out his unwounded left hand for her to lick after petting her on the head.

…

When Sam emerged from the woods, she saw that Dale was still at their campsite. He was sitting in one of their camping chairs and seemed to be deep in thought. He glanced up when she set the basket down with a thump loud enough to get his attention.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"Oh, just… just thinking." He replied a bit guardedly as he watched her proceed to remove various items from the basket and resort and separate them into different categories. "Actually, I was hoping I might have a word with you."

"About Randall, right?" She asked without looking at him.

"Yes." Dale said solemnly, finding himself disappointed by the lack of interest she was showing in the topic. "Surely, you can't think that this is right?" He asked, standing up. "What Rick's planning—It's an execution. You're a good woman. You stood up for Jim when he was bitten—even though you barely knew him. You stopped everyone from panicking and possibly even committing a terrible, terrible mistake. Don't tell me you plan to sit on the sidelines now, not when a kid's life is on the line?"

"Randall is _not_ a kid." She replied emphatically, finally looking back at him as she stopped what she was doing and stood up to fully face the older man. "He's in the same age group as me, Maggie, and Glenn. He's old enough to know what he's doing and be held responsible for his own actions and decisions. He stood by and watched while two girls, who probably weren't even old enough to have graduated from high school yet, were raped by the men he was with while they were out looking for supplies. Those men made the _father_ watch. Randall didn't do a thing to try to stop it—just watched, so he says. He saw all that, and yet he's still with them. What does that say about _that kid_, Dale?" She asked seriously. Dale stared at Sam. Her fists were clenched so tightly at her sides that her knuckles were white. She was trembling all over. Even though she was keeping her voice even, he could tell she was terribly shaken. He had never seen her so upset before.

"… You're scared." He said quietly in disbelief. This girl wasn't scared of walkers, dead bodies, or venomous snakes—what could possibly have her so on edge?

"You're damn right I'm scared." She retorted gravely. "And I have every right to be. This whole time, I've been traveling alone, despite the danger. Haven't you ever wondered _why_?"

"Often." Dale admitted, wondering where she was going with this.

"Because it was _safer_." Sam replied. The look in her eyes as she said those words sent a chill down Dale's spin. "Everyone is so afraid of walkers, but they're just mindless beasts. With a walker, you know exactly what to expect, exactly what you're dealing with. There's no false pretense or subterfuge. They're dangerous, but they're nowhere near as frightening as the monsters that lurk within us—within _humans._ I've seen it Dale, experienced it firsthand. After my mother died, I tried to meet up with some cousins in Biloxi, but you know what I found when I got to their house? They had already become walkers, and some men were looting their home after having just put them down. But I didn't hold a grudge against them for that. I knew they'd probably done it in self-defense. I'd had to kill quite a few walkers myself. If anything, they saved me the trouble and misery of having to do it to more people I cared about myself. Let me tell you, for a couple of looters, those men were downright charming—right up to the moment they tried to rape me." Dale's eyes widened as he stared at her, horrified.

"They raped you?" He asked softly, reaching out to her. She brushed his hand away and took a step back.  
_"They_ _tried_." She stressed meaningfully, leaving the fate of her attackers up to his imagination. "I didn't tell you this so you could pity me, Dale. I want you to understand just how dangerous it is out there. Maybe—Maybe we're wrong about Randall, and he really is a decent guy, but the men he's with _aren't._ We know that much for sure. Knowing what they did to an innocent family whose only crime was being found by them, what do you think they'll do if we let Randall go and he tells them where to find us after Rick, Hershel, and Glenn got into a gunfight with them and killed three of their men, not to mention how Daryl just tortured him for information. They out number us and they out gun us. It won't just be war, it'll be a slaughter. I don't want to become a murderer anymore than you do, Dale, but I have no desire to be raped and/or have to watch while you, Daryl, and the others die while our camp and the farm is pillaged. _We can't let Randall go."_

"So you're with Rick and Shane on this." Dale said, staring sadly at her. He had thought that if anyone would stand with him on this, it would be her, but it was clear to him now that would probably never happen.

"I think I am, unfortunately." She replied grimly. There was no outside law to protect them anymore. They couldn't call 911 and have the police protect them or deal with Randall for them. They couldn't send him to court or have him and those other men thrown in prison where they couldn't hurt anyone. _They _were the law now. They had to protect themselves. They had to be their own judge, jury, and executioners, no matter how ugly or tasteless it might be.

"Killing him will change this group, you know that." Dale said gravely.

"I know." She replied regretfully with a somber look in her eyes. She turned away and headed back into the woods.


	25. Chapter 25

I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**Chapter 25: The Defense Rests**

* * *

"Let's gather up." Rick said. Everyone was either hanging around the porch or already inside the house, waiting in the parlor, and the sun was setting. It was time.

"Come on, Carl." Lori said as the boy walked up to the house while Carol, T-Dog, Brandon, and Shane wen inside to join the others. "I want you to stay with Jimmy." Rick noticed his son was covered in mud. It looked like he had been playing down by the creek by himself. He'd have to have a talk with him about it later.

"But I-I wanna listen." Carl protested.

"Mm-mm. Not this time." Lori told their son as she led him up the porch. "Come on." The three of them entered the house together. Daryl and Sam glanced back at Carl when they noticed the boy had ducked through the other room and come up to stand off to the side behind them instead of continuing on back to wait in the kitchen with Jimmy and Beth while they discussed Randall's fate. Rick and Lori also realized something wasn't right and glanced at their son pointedly, staring at him expectantly. After a moment, Carl sighed and nodded, reluctantly retreating to the safety of the kitchen with everyone else who was still under voting age.

"So how do we do this?" Glenna asked from his seat on the piano bench, breaking the uneasy silence that had settled over the room. "Just take a vote?"

"Does it have to be unanimous?" Andrea asked.

"How about majority rules?" Lori suggested.

"Well, let's—let's just see where everybody stands." Rick said. "Then we can talk through the options."

"Well, where I sit, there's only one way to move forward." Shane said as he leaned against the mantle piece over the fireplace.

"Killing him," Dale said, "right?" He glanced around at everyone in the room. "I mean why even bother to take a vote? It's clear which way the wind's blowing." He said cynically. This whole thing was just a farce.

"Well, if people believe we should spare him, I wanna know." Rick said seriously.

"Well, I can tell you it's a small group." Dale replied. "Maybe just me, Glenn, and Brandon." He said, glancing at the two younger men. His expression fell when he saw the guilty look on Glenn's face.

"Look, I—I think you're pretty much right about everything," Glenn said, "all the time, but this—"

"They've got you scared." Dale told him, trying to reason with him. Glenn wasn't the kind of boy who could resign another to death so easily.

"He's not one of us." Glenn argued back. "And we—we've lost too many people already." He didn't like it, but he wasn't about to watch more people he cared about get killed for the sake of a stranger.

"How about you?" Dale asked, turning to Maggie. "Do you agree with this?"

"Couldn't we continue keeping him prisoner?" Maggie asked.

"Just another mouth to feed." Daryl said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"We'll have enough trouble just trying to keep ourselves fed." Sam added quietly. She wouldn't mind keeping Randall prisoner if the conditions were more ideal. She just didn't want him getting back to those dangerous homicidal rapist friends of his.

"It may be a lean winter." Hershel agreed.

"We could ration better." Lori said.

"With what? Do you even have any food stored up yet?" Sam asked. "There are sixteen of us not counting Randall, and there's only so many canned goods still left in the town stores. The more often we go back, the higher our risk of running into Randall's friends or another dangerous group becomes. You can't solely rely on hunting to get you by either. Pretty much anything worth eating will have either gone into hibernation or migrated to somewhere else before long. We have the livestock to think about, too."

"Well, maybe he could be an asset. Give him a chance to prove himself." Dale said, not ready to give up.

"Put him to work?" Glenn asked.

"We're not letting him walk around." Rick said firmly.

"We could put an escort on him." Maggie suggested.

"Who wants to volunteer for _that_ duty?" Shane asked, scoffing.

"I will." Dale replied quickly.

"Me too." Brandon said.

"I don't think any of us should be walking around with this guy." Rick said, raising his hand.

"He's right." Lori agreed. "I wouldn't feel safe unless he was tied up."

"We can't exactly put chains around his ankles, sentence him to hard labor." Andrea added.

"Well, what about that thing where you keep someone captive long enough, they start to become attached to their captors?" Brandon asked, glancing at Sam.

"Stockholm syndrome?" She asked, furrowing her brow slightly. It wasn't entirely impossible for that to happen, but it would take a _really_ long time to set in for Randall after what they had put him through…

"Yeah, that. What if we kept him tied up until that happened and then let him join us?" Brandon suggested.

"Look, say we let him join us, right? Maybe—Maybe he's helpful, maybe he's nice. We let our guard down, and maybe he runs off, brings back his thirty men." Shane countered sardonically.

"So the answer is to kill him to prevent a crime that he may never even attempt?" Dale demanded. "If we do this, we're saying there's no hope. Rule of law is dead. There is no civilization."

"Oh my God." Shane grumbled.

"The law enforcement system as we knew it has collapsed Dale. It's just us out here." Sam reminded him. "We're back in the Dark Ages again—worse, actually, because even they were still more organized back then than whatever's left of the population today despite all their superstition and illiteracy. We're more like a series of scattered tribes now. Our fate is in our own hands here. Whatever we decide, it's up to us to see it through."

"Could you drive him further out?" Hershel asked Rick. "Leave him like you planned?"

"You barely came back this time." Lori said, glancing at her husband. Daryl and Sam exchanged a knowing look. That had been more due to a poor choice of partner than anything. "There are walkers. You could break down. Y-You could get lost."

"Or get ambushed." Daryl added.

"They're right. We should not put our own people at risk." Glenn said.

"If you go through with it, how would you do it?" Patricia asked. "Would he suffer?"

"We could hang him, right?" Shane suggested. "Just snap his neck."

"I thought about that." Rick said, sighing. "Shooting may be more humane."

"And what about the body?" T-Dog asked. "Do we burry him?"

"Hold on, hold on." Dale said quickly, interrupting before they could get anymore carried away with the conversation. "You're talking about this like it's already decided."

"You've been talking all day, going around in circles." Daryl said, twirling his finger through the air. "You just wanna go around in circles again?"

"This is a young man's life!" Dale exclaimed passionately. "And it is worth more than a five-minute conversation! Is this what it's come to? We kill someone because we can't decide what else to do with them? You saved him," He said, turning to Rick, "and now look at us." Dale shook his head. "He's been tortured. He's gonna be executed. How are we any better than those people that we're so afraid of?"

"We all know what needs to be done." Shane said.

"No, Dale is right." Rick said. "We can't leave any stone unturned here. We have a responsibility—"

"So what's the other solution?" Andrea asked, cutting him off.

"Let Rick finish." Lori said, but Andrea wasn't done.

"We haven't come up with a single viable option yet." Andrea pointed out. "I wish we could—"

"So let's work on it!" Dale said.

"We are." Rick told him.

"Stop it." Carol said, finally speaking up. "Just stop it. I'm sick of everybody arguing and fighting. I didn't ask for this. You can't ask us to decide something like this." She told Dale before glancing at Shane and Rick. "Please decide—either of you, both of you—but leave me out."

"Not speaking out or killing him yourself—there's no difference." Dale told her.

"All right, that's enough." Rick told him, holding out a hand. "Anybody that wants the floor before we make a final decision has the chance." If anyone wanted to speak or make their own case, now was the time. Maggie and Patricia took a seat beside Hershel on the sofa. No one came forward. They all began casting glances around the room, waiting for someone to break the lengthening silence. Dale couldn't take it anymore.

"You once said that we don't kill the living." He reminded Rick, grasping at straws.

"Well, that was before the living tried to kill us." Rick retorted.

"But don't you see? If we do this, the people that we were—the world that we knew is _dead_." Dale exclaimed passionately with wet eyes. "And this new world is ugly. It's… harsh. It's survival of the fittest."

Sam bowed her head. She may be an optimist, but she was also a realist too. The world had always been about the survival of the fittest. It was like G said back in Atlanta—the weak get taken. The rules hadn't changed. It was just that the standards that determined who was 'strong' had changed from being about who was educated and skilled enough to earn an income to support themselves or their family the best to who could kill walkers and scavenge for food the best.

"And that's a world I don't want to live in." Dale continued. "And I don't believe that any of you do. _I can't. _Please, let's just do what's _right_." He pleaded, glancing around at them. "Isn't there anybody else who's gonna stand with me?"

"He's right." Andrea said after a pause, causing Dale to glance at her in surprise. "We should try to find another way."

"… If you can come up with another way to prevent Randall from ever contacting that group of men again… then I might be persuaded to change my position to support you." Sam said tentatively after thinking it over, causing Daryl to glance at her. No matter what she might've said, she really didn't want to have to become a murderer after all if it could be avoided, but she didn't feel like there was much of an alternative in this case. They already knew Randall's group was dangerous, and that made him a ticking time bomb.

"Anybody else?" Rick asked. So far it was three 'nays' and one 'maybe' with the majority favoring the execution. No one spoke up. They all had their heads bowed, trying not to look at each other, especially Dale, who looked like he was on the verge of tears because of how disappointed and frustrated he was with all of them and the situation he now found himself in. But Rick turned to face him, holding out his hands. The 'ayes' had it.

"Are y'all gonna watch too?" Dale asked cynically, scoffing, as he blinked back the tears. "No, you'll go hide your heads in your tents and try to forget that we're slaughtering a human being. Whoa…" He exhaled, shaking his head. "I won't be a party to it." He said, heading for the door. He stopped by Sam and Daryl on his way out, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder. "This group _is_ broken." Dale told Daryl loud enough for at least Sam and Rick to hear.

…

"You don't have to do this." Rick told Sam as he, she, Daryl, and Shane walked up to the shed to retrieve Randall for his execution. Sam was carrying her crovel as her weapon of choice this evening.

"Yes, I do." Sam replied seriously. She wasn't going to 'hide in her tent' while Rick and Daryl did all the dirty work. It was serious business and heavy sin, murder. The shouldn't have to bear that cross alone. She wasn't going to let herself forget the consequences of that decision. "I chose this. Let me take some responsibility for it." Rick nodded in understanding as Daryl glanced at her, furrowing his brow slightly with concern. He'd rather she didn't have to see what was coming next, but he could tell by the determination and resolve quietly smoldering in her dark eyes that it was no use arguing with her. She'd made her decision, and she was going to see it through. She didn't need his permission.

"Who's she? What's going on?" Randall asked, confused, when they unchained him from the wall and started herding him out of the shed, out into the cold night air. He had never seen Sam before. She was a woman, maybe she might be more likely to have pity on him.

"Goin' for a walk." Daryl said gruffly, giving him a little shove forward as they started making their way toward the barn with the prisoner. He didn't want him talking to Sam or trying to make her feel sorry for him. Randall took the hint and decided to keep quiet for awhile since they were letting him stretch his legs after being cooped up in that shed for two days straight, though he was still in handcuffs. They walked along the dirt path in silence under the bright light of the moon. They barely even needed the lantern Rick was carrying.

"Hold on." Randall said when he saw where they were headed. He was starting to get a bad feeling about this 'walk'. "Hold on. Hold on." He pleaded nervously as Rick and Shane pulled open the doors. "Wait, wait." He said as Daryl and Sam maneuvered him into the barn behind them. "Wait."

"Put him there." Rick said, pointing to a spot further inside the barn before setting down the lantern.

"Ah." Randal gasped in pain when the cuffs dug into his wrists when he tried to resist but Daryl just continued to effortlessly push him forward. "Hey, hey." He said, startled, when Shane came up behind him with the blindfold.

"It's all gonna be over soon." Shane told him.

"What?" Randall asked, glancing back at him. Sam had to come over and hold his head straight for Shane while he placed the blindfold over Randall's eyes. "What's gonna be over soon?"

"Relax." Shane said, tying the knot in the back.

"Hey. Hey. No no no no." Randall whimpered, beginning to panic.

"Shh. Shh. Shh. Shh." Shane said, shushing the boy as he began to cry.

"Oh, no. no." Randall continued to whimper as Rick walked over with the Python in his hand, signaling that he was ready. Shane and Sam quietly slipped away from the prisoner and stepped clear, giving Rick space to shoot. Daryl placed a hand on Sam's shoulder when she came over to stand beside him.

"Would you like to stand or kneel?" Rick asked Randall calmly, keeping his voice even.

"Oh, no. Please." Randall began to beg as the full weight of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. He looked like he was about to fall over. "Ple—Ah-ah! Ah." He groaned in pain when Daryl left Sam's side to force him into a kneeling position, keeping a grip on the kid's hair in case he tried to bolt. Once he was on his knees, Daryl released him and took several steps back. Randal began sobbing. Rick glanced at Shane. Shane nodded.

"Do you have any final words?" Rick asked the blubbering boy.

"No. Please." Randall cried. "Please, don't. Don't." He begged, crying so hard barely any sound was coming out of him at all. Rick steeled his nerves and hardened his heart. He raised his gun, aiming it between Randall's eyes, only a few inches away from his head as he cocked it. Randall let out another pathetic whimper when he heard the telltale click. Sam bit her lip, fighting the impulse to look away.

"Do it, Dad." Carl said suddenly, alerting them to his presence.

Sam whipped her head around and stared at the boy. She hadn't even heard him come in. Just how long had he been standing there? Wasn't Lori supposed to be watching him? Rick had frozen like a deer caught in the headlights upon realizing that his son was there.

"Do it." Carl said again, egging his dad on. Rick glanced at Shane. Shane sighed as he shook his head and stepped over to deal with Carl for him. Neither of them could believe this was happening.

"Are you kidding me? What did I say to you?" Shane asked the twelve-year-old boy as he grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him back out of the barn. Sam glanced between the father and son. She could see Rick's resolve wavering, and after what had just happened, she couldn't say she blamed him. Not only did his son nearly witness him killing another human being, but Carl had actually just _encouraged_ Rick to do it.

"Take him." Rick said, lowering his gun. Shane glanced back at him, hoping he didn't really hear what he thought he just did. "Take him away." Rick repeated, referring to Randall, uncocking his gun. Daryl sighed and uncrossed his arms with a slight shake of his head as he moved to grab Randall and haul him back onto his feet.

"Get up." Daryl ordered the whimpering boy.

"Ah. Ah. Ah." Randall gasped in pain and confusion as Daryl proceeded to shove him towards the barn doors. Shane cursed under his breath and banged his fist on the door before shoving it open the rest of the way, heading off to take their prisoner back to the shed with Daryl and Sam.

"Sam." Rick said, taking a moment to swallow the lump in his throat as he stared at his son. Sam stopped in the doorway next to Carl while Daryl and Shane continued on ahead. Rick put the Python back in its holster. "I want you to come with us. Help me keep an eye on Carl."

"Yeah, sure." She agreed, nodding, as she glanced at the boy out the corner of her eye. She could understand why Rick looked so troubled. When did the kid get so cold? The three of them walked back to the camp in silence. When the others saw them, they all stood up, waiting to hear the news. Maggie was there, too. The others all stared at the three of them. Why was Carl with Rick and Sam? Where were Daryl and Shane?

"We're keeping him in custody for now." Rick announced, keeping his voice calm and even.

"I'm gonna go find Dale." Andrea said, smiling.

"Carl, go inside." Lori said, blinking, as she continued to stare at her husband. She clearly needed to have a word with him. "Now, please." She added sternly when he didn't move.

"Come on." Sam said, placing a hand on his back as she guided the younger boy into his family's tent, going with him to make sure he was going to stay put where he was supposed to be this time.

"Why did he stop?" Carl asked Sam once they were inside and he realized his parents were talking too low for him to eavesdrop.

"Because he was disappointed that you wanted to watch." She replied frankly. Carl blinked and furrowed his brow in confusion.

"But it was the right thing to do, wasn't it?" He asked. "Killing that guy?"

"We thought it was necessary, but that doesn't make it right. There can be a fine line between murder and self-defense." Sam stated calmly.

"But this was self-defense, right? Because he's dangerous. Shane said he was dangerous." Carl said, frowning slightly. Sam sighed. How was she going to explain such a murky grey area she was still struggling with herself.

"My grandpa used to say 'A kill is a kill.' Whether it's a squirrel or a human, a life is a life, and it should never be taken lightly. Whatever the reason or the circumstances behind it, it all boils down to one thing—that life was ended so that you could keep living, so whatever you believe about the after life or on the quality of the human soul versus an animal's, you have to remember one thing—Respect the kill. Respect the life that was sacrificed in order to sustain yours and live well enough to justify taking it." She explained patiently. "You didn't respect the life your father was about to take, and that worried him."

"So, you're saying that even if I have to take a life of something I don't really care about, I still have to respect it's 'value'?" Carl asked.

"Yes." Sam replied. "Never forget that value. The weight of a human life is the heaviest burden of all. It can break you if you take it too lightly and don't know how to carry it properly. Your father knows that. He's a good man. He knows taking another man's life isn't supposed to be easy. And I think he wants to make sure you know that too. True courage isn't about knowing when to take a life, but when to spare one." She said, looking the boy in the eye. "Okay?" Carl opened his mouth to reply when a scream sounded through the night. Sam was instantly at the tent door, unzipping it, so they could find out what was going on outside.

"Get Carl." Rick told Lori. "Sam!" He called out, waving for her to come with before hurriedly walking away to rally the others.

"Baby!" Lori called out to their son, who ran over to her, as Sam left with her husband to deal with their latest threat.

"T-Dog, get a shotgun now!" Rick shouted as Sam caught up to him.

"What happened?" She asked, tightening her grip on her crovel.

"I don't know yet." He replied as he kept walking towards the sound of the screams with her.

…

Daryl was staring down Randall, who once again found himself chained up in the shed, only this time Daryl had stuffed a rag in his mouth as a gag to silence him. Shane was gone. Daryl had drawn his knife and was debating whether or not he should just take care if Randall himself right there and then in order to protect Sam and everyone else, when the screams of agony reached his ears. Daryl cast on last glance at the terrified boy strung up before him before grabbing the lantern and running out the door to see what was wrong. It sounded like Dale. As luck would have it, he was the first to arrive, but he was too late to save Dale, whose cries of agony reached their height as walker he was struggling to hold back in order to prevent being bitten after it had pinned him to the ground tore through his shirt and ripped open his belly. Daryl sprinted as though his own life depended on it and tackled the walker, hitting it with enough force to knock it right off the older man. Daryl rolled over as he kept a grip on it, making sure he was the one who ended up on top, and grabbed the back of its neck, holding it in place as he slammed his knife down through the top of its skull.

"Ungh!" Daryl grunted as he quickly yanked his knife back out of the dead walker and dropped the limp corpse before hurrying back over to check on Dale. It was bad. The walker had pretty much disemboweled the old man. He was coughing up blood. "Help! Over here!" Daryl shouted, standing up and jumping as he waved his arms at the others in an attempt to make himself more visible in the dark when he saw all the flashlights coming from different directions.

"Daryl_!_?" Sam shouted in alarm, picking up speed, pulling away from Rick, who had been joined by Shane.

"Help! Run!" He shouted at her before kneeling down beside Dale again. "Hang in there, buddy." He told him. The old man had better not die on him.

"Oh God…" Sam breathed when she reached them and saw what had happened.

"Who is it?" Andrea called out as Shane, and Rick came over, right on her heels.

"Oh my God." Rick said as he rushed forward to kneel beside Dale while Shane covered his mouth and took a step back as Andrea and Brandon joined them next. Andrea froze, horrified, as she stared down at Dale. It was like having to watch Amy die all over again.

"Oh God. Oh God." Brandon gasped, trying not to be sick. He needed to keep it together. He needed to help.

"All right, just listen to my voice." Rick told Dale, placing his hands on the side of the older man's face. "Listen to me, all right? Just listen to me."

Dale moaned in pain in response. Sam's eyes began to water as she watched him choke on his own blood. Andrea couldn't take it, she fell to her knees.

"Okay, hold on now." Rick told him. "Get Hershel!" He shouted to the others.

"R-Right!" Brandon said, quickly turning on his heel and heading for the house with Daryl to get the doctor.

"He needs blood. What's his blood type? Who else is O-neg?" Sam said, stating the obvious given how much he must have lost after having his abdomen ripped open. She was pretty sure he had already lost more than she could give, so they needed to find a second donor fast. "He's dying. We've got to operate now."

"Hang on, Dale." Andrea said anxiously, leaning over to talk to him. Dale looked at her with wide eyes, breathing heavily and moaning in pain.

"Listen to me. Okay, listen to my voice." Rick told him, trying to keep him focused as Lori, Glenn, Maggie, and T-Dog came running up. "All right? Please. Hershel! We need Hershel!"

"Look at me." Andrea said.

"Dale, we're gonna help. We're here." Rick said earnestly.

"Just hold on." Sam urged Dale.

"What happened?" Hershel asked as he arrived with Daryl, Brandon, and Patricia. He quickly knelt beside the mortally wounded man, surveying the damage.

"What can we do?" Rick asked.

"Dale, it's gonna be okay." Glenn said.

"Can we move him?" Sam asked.

"He won't make the trip." Hershel replied regretfully, straightening up.

"You'll have to do the operation here." Rick told him. They needed Hershel's surgical tools and medicine. "Glenn, get back to the house—" He started to order, getting to his feet, when Hershel placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Rick." Hershel said, stopping him. He shook his head. There was nothing he could do. Dale was beyond his help. He was dying.

"No!" Rick shouted as everyone else started crying.

"Oh God." Andrea sobbed as she watched Dale continue to choke on his own blood. Carl came up behind his mother, having just arrived on the scene despite her orders to stay in the house. His eyes widened when he saw the body of the dead walker lying just a few feet away. He stumbled backwards and grabbed onto his mother, burying his face into her as he cried.

"He's suffering. _Do something!"_ Andrea yelled.

There was nothing they could do to save Dale. The only way left for them to ease his suffering was to end it. They would have to kill him.

Rick drew his gun from its holster.

"Come on." Shane said softly, looking away, as Rick raised his gun, aiming for Dale's head. He wanted it to be quick and as painless as possible. It had to be the head, and instant kill.

"Oh God." Andrea sobbed, turning away. She couldn't bear to look.

Rick's hand was trembling as he held the gun. He was having trouble raising it the last couple of inches. Rick glanced up, surprised, when another hand, rough and bandaged, reached out and placed itself on top of his and the gun. He let Daryl take the gun from him, stepping aside to give him room. He just couldn't bring himself to do it, not to Dale—not while he was still human.

Daryl Knelt down beside Dale as he cocked the gun so that its muzzle was only an inch or two away from the middle of Dale's brow. Sam squeezed Dale's hand to let him know she was still there. Dale let out a whimper as he raised his head off the ground, lifting it to touch his forehead to the mouth of the gun. Despite his pain, he struggled to force the grim ghost of a smile onto his face to let them know that it was okay, that he wanted this. He wanted the immense pain and suffering to end.

"Sorry, brother." Daryl said solemnly.

He pulled the trigger.


	26. Chapter 26

I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**Chapter 26: Better Angels**

* * *

They held Dale's funeral the following morning just after sunrise.

"Dale could—could get under your skin. He sure got under mine," Rick spoke as they all stood around the new grave to honor the man buried within, "because he wasn't afraid to say exactly what he thought, how he felt. That kind of honesty is rare… and brave. Whenever I'd make a decision, I'd look at Dale." A tear streamed down Carl's face. "He'd be looking back at me with that look he had. We've all seen it one time or another. I couldn't always read him, but he could read us. He saw people for who they were. He knew things about us—the truth, who we really are. In the end, he was talking about losing our humanity." Sam blinked and bowed her head. "He said this group was broken. The best way to honor him is to unbreak it. Set aside our differences and pull together, stop feeling sorry for ourselves and take control of our lives, our safety… our future. We're not broken. We're gonna prove him wrong. From now on, we're gonna do it his way. That is how we honor Dale."

After the funeral, Hershel wanted to talk to Rick about something, so Daryl, Sam, T-Dog, Andrea, and Shane went ahead and got started on patrolling the grounds to make sure there were no more walkers like the one that got Dale hanging around. Andrea rode in the front of the blue truck with Shane while Sam sat in the back with Daryl and T-Dog. They decided to drive out and check the outermost fence first, figuring there must still be a hole somewhere from when the cattle busted loose the previous morning. Shane took the lead, testing different areas of the fence for weakness, while Andrea and T-Dog carried the replacement wire and tools. Daryl and Sam were on protection duty, keeping guard while they went about their business. Once that was finished, the five of them went on a patrol through the woods around the perimeter, armed with different melee weapons.

Daryl whistled softly to get the others' attention when he and Sam found a fresh trail, pointing the way to them. The trail led back towards the farm, so they got back in the truck and drove in that general direction until they came upon a small group of walkers that were stumbling around the outskirts of Hershel's property towards another small group who were feeding on what was left of one of the cows that had still been MIA. Shane pulled to a stop several about a yard away, and Daryl, Sam, and T-Dog hopped out the back while Shane and Andrea climbed out of the cab. Daryl took out the first one with his crossbow. T-Dog stepped forward and started beating another's head in with a lead pipe while Sam whacked one in the head with her crovel, knocking it off his feet, so she could deliver a fatal blow to the head. Andrea got the next one, stabbing it through under the chin with a pitchfork. Shane took another out with the same shovel they had used to dig Dale's grave earlier. The walkers eating the cow finally started to look up and realize they weren't alone anymore, but it was too late. Daryl put an arrow right between the eyes of one as Andrea ran forward and slammed the handle of her weapon against another's head. Sam scalped another with her crovel while Shane whacked one in the head with his shovel and began kicking it violently when he realized it wasn't completely dead yet. The others joined in, venting their frustrations on the mindless and grotesque walker, before finally stepping back and giving Shane room to deliver the finishing blow. Shane let out a cry of exertion as he brought the blade of the shovel down, bashing its brains out. The walker groaned one last time before finally stilling completely.

…

"Gonna be tight, fourteen people in one house." Rick said. They had returned from patrol to learn that Hershel had decided to extend the invitation to share his home with all of them in view of the fast approaching winter.

"Don't worry about that." Hershel told him. "With the swamp hardening, the creek drying up…"

"With fifty head of cattle on the property, we might as well be ringing a damn dinner bell." Maggie finished.

"She's right. We should've moved you in a while ago." Hershel said.

Daryl and Sam exchanged a glance. They wouldn't mind being in a real house for those cold winter nights, and even if it got cramped, the collective body heat should help keep everyone warm. The house could offer them a hell of a lot more protection against walkers than a flimsy tent, too. The rest of their group had already started packing up the main camp, but they decided to wait and see what Rick had to say before going off to grab their stuff.

"All right," Rick said, "let's move the vehicles near each of the doors, facing out toward the road." Sam nodded. Sounded like a good plan. If the worst came, they could easily abandon ship that way. "We'll build a lookout in the windmill, another in the barn loft. That should give us sidelines both sides of the property." Sam and Daryl started walking away to break their own camp. "T-Dog, you take the perimeter around the house. Keep track of everyone coming and going."

"What about standing guard?" T-Dog asked.

"I need you and Daryl on double duty." Rick replied, causing him and Sam to pause and glance back at them. They exchanged a glance, shrugged, and continued on their way. Guess they'd better hurry, then.

"Gotcha." T-Dog said.

"I'll stock the basement with food and water, enough that we can all survive there a few days if need be." Hershel said as Brandon walked by carrying a crate of supplies.

"What about patrols?" Andrea asked.

"Let's get this area locked down first." Rick told her. "After that, Shane will assign shifts while me and Daryl take Randall offsite and cut him loose." He added, pointing to the man who had been quietly listening to him talk the whole time while leaning against the truck.

"We're back to that now?" Shane asked as he turned to walk away and Lori and the others began loading some of the heavier items in camp into the back of the truck for transportation to the house.

"It was the right plan first time around." Rick said, stopping. "Poor execution."

"That's a slight understatement." Shane remarked with a flat laugh.

"You don't agree, but this is what's happening." Rick told him. "Swallow it, move on."

"You know that Dale's death and the prisoner—that's two separate things, right?" Shane asked. "You wanna take Daryl as your wingman, be my guest."

"Thank you." Rick said, walking away.

"You got it." Shane replied humorlessly.

…

Once they were all packed up, and their few worldly possessions were loaded onto his motorcycle, Sam climbed on the back and held onto to Daryl while he revved the engine and drove them over to the farmhouse to rejoin the others. Rose barked and wagged her tail as she ran after them.

They didn't have much to unpack, so after dropping their bags off in the designated 'men' and 'women' rooms in the house, the two of them got to work helping Jimmy and Brandon board up all the windows. Sam stayed to help with the house, while Daryl left to board up the ones on the shed.

"You're not gonna move your motorcycle?" She asked Brandon when she noticed it was still parked by the old campsite. He glanced back at it and shook his head.

"Nah. It's practically running on fumes now." He said. "I meant to refuel before we left the highway, but with all the excitement going on at the time, I guess I kinda forgot. If something happens, I'll just get in the RV with Glenn or something. I've grown attached to that old dinosaur."

"Okay." Sam said, smiling wryly. She imagined Dale would be kind of proud to hear that. "As long as you've thought it through." She grabbed another board and couple of nails, getting ready to start on the next window. She raised the hammer.

"Sam." Hershel called out, getting her attention. Sam stopped and lowered the hammer.

"Yeah?" She called back, still holding the board in place. She hoped whatever he had to say wouldn't take to long. It was heavier than it looked.

"I'd like to have a word with you about that food you brought in." Hershel said, moving closer.

"Something wrong with it?" She asked, furrowing her brow slightly in confusion as she set the board down. " 'Cause I can vouch for all of it. I dried it myself."

"No, you did a fine job." He reassured her. "It's just that I was thinking of stocking the basement with food and water, and since those dried goods of yours will keep better without refrigeration than most of what we've got left…"

"You were wondering if you could add them to the store." Sam finished for him, nodding in understanding. "Yeah, sure. Help yourself." She told him before turning back to work on the windows again. They were going to have to pool all their resources together just to get through the winter sooner or later anyway. Might as well start doing it now.

"Much obliged." Hershel thanked her as he headed back into the house.

…

"Take him out to Senoia—hour there, hour back, give or take." Rick said, glancing up from the map he was going over with Daryl on the front porch. "We may loose the light, but we'll be halfway home by then." Daryl sighed as he straightened up and leaned back against the railing.

"And this little pain in the ass will be a distant memory." He said. "Good riddance."

"Carol's putting together some provisions for him, enough to last a few days." Rick said. They both glanced up at the sound of an approaching vehicle. Shane was driving his Hyundai back after installing a platform for a look out on the windmill. "That thing you did last night…" Rick said, glancing at Daryl.

"Ain't no reason you should do all the heavy liftin'." Daryl said calmly, looking up at him. Rick nodded, giving him a silent thanks.

"So are you good with all this?" He asked, referring to the plan to set Randall loose as Shane pulled to a stop in front of the house and killed the engine. He knew Daryl wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea.

"I don't see you and I trading haymakers on the side of the road." Daryl replied. Rick glanced at him. Yeah, Daryl hadn't missed those nasty bruises that were forming on the side of Shane's face. They were certain Rick had some less noticeable bruises too. Those weren't the kind of wounds you'd expect to get from a walker. "Nobody'd win that fight." He may not exactly agree with the plan, but Sam had decided to put her fears aside and go along with it, and she had a hell of a lot more to lose than he did if something went wrong. He would just have to be there to make sure nothing happened to her if or when the shit really did hit the fan. Daryl glanced back at Shane as he slammed the car door shut and started making his way toward the house. It looked like the two ex-best friends could use some time to talk, and it was gonna be a long ride. "I'm gonna take a piss." He said, excusing himself, as he headed inside.

When Daryl came back out the house, he saw that both Shane and his car were gone, and so was Rick. Sam was loading the supplies Carol had pooled together for Randall into the back of the blue truck.

"Hey." He said as he walked over to her. "You seen Rick?"

"Yeah, he was headed over to the barn with Carl. Needed to have a father-son talk with him about something." She replied, glancing up at him.

"When doesn't that boy need talkin' to?" Daryl asked, shaking his head. It seemed like Carl was constantly getting himself into trouble these days. He glanced at her and they smiled wryly at each other before shaking their heads.

"The problem is Lori treats him like a kid then expects him to behave like an adult. I wish she'd keep a better eye on him instead of letting him wander around on his own so much." Sam said, frowning slightly in disapproval. "Did you notice how he had mud from the creek all over him yesterday? He doesn't have a gun, what if he had run into a walker or something?" It was hard enough taking walkers down without one when you were an adult.

"Maybe you should start keeping an eye on him, then." He suggested. There was little point in telling Lori any of this unless Sam wanted to get her ear chewed off. "Give him a little tough love, straighten him out."

"Nah. That's what Rick's for." Sam said. "He just needs more time with his dad. And there'll be plenty of time for them to bond while we're all cooped up inside that farmhouse for the winter with nowhere better to go."

"True." Daryl agreed, hoping no one would get a case of cabin fever over the next few months, while he examined the supplies in the back of the truck. Randall could probably get by for three days on these provisions.

"Only got so many arrows." T-Dog said, getting their attention as he walked up to Daryl, holding out a pistol. He winked at Sam, who smiled gratefully at him. She had wanted Daryl to take her handgun with him after discovering his was missing, but he had insisted she should keep it in case she needed it, and he didn't do pink.

"Is that Dale's gun?" Daryl asked as he accepted it and checked it over.

"Yeah." T-Dog said a little more solemnly, bowing his head, as he stepped over to help Sam close up the back of the truck, even though she didn't really need it.

"Wish I knew where the hell mine is." Daryl remarked, tucking the pistol into the back of his pants as Rick walked up to join them. Carl wasn't with him. Rick must've already dropped him off by the house's back door.

"Ready?" Rick asked.

"Yeah." Daryl said, grabbing his crossbow.

"I'll get the package." T-Dog volunteered.

"I'll help." Sam offered, following him. They were both carrying since they had been expecting to take on guard and watch duty while Rick and Daryl were gone.

"Yo, Randy." T-Dog called out as they came upon the shed. He banged on the door to make sure their prisoner was awake inside. "Governor called. You're off the hook." Sam smiled wryly at his little joke while she slid the dials on the padlock into the right combination to unlock it and pulled the lock from the door. T-Dog pulled open the door, about to enter first, but he froze in the doorway when he saw that the shed was empty.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, concerned. She placed her hand on her holstered gun, ready to draw at the first sign of trouble. T-Dog didn't answer right away. He took another step forward to peer further inside and make sure Randall wasn't just hiding somewhere in the shadows. But he wasn't there.

"Oh _hell_ no." T-Dog exclaimed as he backed out of the shed. "He's gone!" He shouted as he turned and ran to get Rick and Daryl.

"Gone_!_?" Sam asked, staring at him in disbelief. "Shit." She drew her gun and cautiously entered the shed, double checking to make sure Randall wasn't hiding. She looked everywhere—up, down, left, right, all around—T-Dog was right. Randall was just _gone._ She knelt down to examine the hand cuffs. Her eyes widened. They were still closed. There were traces of blood and skin crusted onto them. Randall must have rubbed his wrists raw trying to get out of them… but that still didn't explain how he got out of them. Sam held the cuff up next to her hand to see if she could slip hers through. Her hands were smaller than Randall's, but she couldn't see anyway of getting her own hands through the closed cuffs short of breaking them. But the door was locked from the outside, and he would need his hands to climb if he had somehow managed to slip out through the rafters... So how the hell did he get out?

"Sam?" Daryl called out as he entered the shed, followed by Rick. She noticed Andrea had come too when she glanced up at him and through the open door.

"The cuffs were closed when we found them." Sam said, to where they were still hooked to the chain against the wall. "Do they look like they were tampered with to you?" She asked.

"No." Rick said after taking a moment to examine them. "No, these weren't picked." He glanced back at her and saw the look on her face. Daryl noticed it too. She knew better than to say it out loud without any proof, but it was obvious she suspected that someone had helped Randall with his escape. Daryl walked back over to the door, opening and closing it, examining it for any clues that might indicate whether or not it had been tampered with, while Rick continued to examine the inside for any clues Sam and T-Dog might've missed. Looking for clues inside a shed fit more in his line of work as a cop than tracking an animal through the woods. There were no signs of struggle, no new ones, anyway. He glanced up at the rafters as Andrea walked in, wondering if Randall could've gotten out that way somehow. Andrea followed his gaze, remembering how Carl had gotten in through that way somehow. But it looked like Daryl had fixed that problem area while he was taking care of the windows…

Daryl slammed the door open one last time before he began circling the outside of the shed in hopes of finding a trail to follow. As far as he could tell, there was nothing wrong with the damn thing. There was no way Randall could've gotten out that way, not unless the kid was some kind of magician. T-Dog and Sam started following after him, when the others suddenly came swarming out of the house, wanting to know what was going on. T-Dog and Sam stopped to intercept them before they accidentally trampled over any clues that might help Daryl figure out which direction Randall had run off in.

"What's wrong?" Lori asked.

"Randall's missing." Sam replied.

"Missing? _How_?" Lori asked, staring at them in disbelief, like it was their fault somehow.

"How long's he been gone?" Hershel asked Rick as T-Dog let him through. It was his shed, after all.

"What's goin' on?" Patricia asked.

"Something wrong, Sam?" Brandon asked.

"Look, it's not safe out here. Y'all should head back inside until we find him." Sam said, trying to help T-Dog keep them back without using force.

"It's hard to say." Rick told Hershel as he stepped out of the shed. "The cuff are still hooked. He must've slipped 'em." He didn't want to alarm anyone with Sam's conspiracy theory until they knew more.

"Is that possible?" Carol asked.

"It is if you've got nothing to lose." Andrea stated as she too stepped out of the shed.

"The door was secured from the outside." Hershel said, closing it.

"Rick!" They all turned when they heard Shane shouting. "Rick!" He was coming from the woods. He had a nasty cut across the bridge of his nose, and it was bleeding pretty badly. He looked like someone had slammed his head into something.

"What happened?" Lori called out worriedly.

"He's armed!" Shane shouted as he continued marching towards them. "He's got my gun!"

"Who? Randall?" Brandon asked, furrowing his brow slightly in confusion. How did that happen? "What happened to your face, man?"

"Are you okay?" Carl asked, concerned by all the blood.

"I'm fine." Shane told him. "Little bastard just snuck up on me. Clocked me in the face." Daryl and Sam exchanged a glance. That wound looked pretty convincing, but they found it hard to believe that Randall was smart enough or strong enough to pull something like this off. The kid wasn't the Hulk or Houdini, and if anyone had something to gain from seeing Rick's plan fail and making him look bad…

"All right," Rick said, turning back to address the rest of them, "Hershel, T-Dog, Sam, get everybody back in the house. Glenn, Daryl, come with us."

"Be safe out there." Sam whispered to Daryl while he loaded his crossbow before stepping aside and turning back to face the others and help Hershel and T-Dog usher them back inside. "Okay, everyone, let's go. Back inside."

"T, I'm gonna need that gun." Shane said, stopping the other man.

"Just let him go." Brandon said. "That was the plan, wasn't it, to just let him go?"

"The plan was to cut him loose far away from here, not on our front step with a _gun_." Rick corrected him as Shane took T-Dog's handgun.

"Don't go out there." Carol called after them nervously as the four men started to walk away. "Y'all know what can happen."

"Get everybody back in the house." Rick ordered again. "Lock all the doors and stay put!"

"Let's go, back in the house." Andrea said as she and T-Dog turned and started ushering Carol and Maggie back to the house, catching up with Sam and Hershel, who were already in the process of seeing everyone else inside.

"I saw him head up through the trees that way before I blacked out." Shane told Rick, Daryl, and Glenn as the four of them headed into the woods together. "I'm not sure how long."

"He couldn't have gotten far." Rick said. "He's hobbled, exhausted."

"And armed." Glenn said.

"So are we." Rick reminded him. "Can you track him?" He asked Daryl.

"No, I don't see nothin'." Daryl said, scanning the ground in the fading light with sharp eyes. The whole thing felt wrong.

"Hey, look, there ain't no use tracking him, okay? He went that way." Shane insisted. "We need to pair up. We spread out, we just chase him down. That's it."

"Kid weighs a buck-25 soakin' wet." Daryl said, glancing back at him. "You tryin' to tell us he go the jump on you?" Sam was shorter than Randall, and she could take him.

"I say a rock pretty much evens those odds, wouldn't you?" Shane retorted.

"All right, all right. Knock it off." Rick said before a fight started. "You and Glenn start heading up the right flank." He told Daryl. "Me and Shane will take the left. Remember, Randall's not the only threat out there. Keep an eye out for each other."

…

"Hey, Carl." Sam said, getting the attention of the young boy who had just been staring off into space for the past several minutes while trying to keep out of the way of the other adults, who were occupying their time by finishing the preparations to get the rooms everyone was sharing ready. Carol and Brandon were cooking supper in the kitchen. "I know you're worried about your dad, but do you think you could do me a favor? You see, T-Dog and I are going to be keeping guard around the lower levels of the house, but we need someone to help us keep watch from the windows upstairs. You'd have a bird's eye view of most of the farm from up there. Think you can do it?" She asked, handing him Dale's binoculars. Carl nodded and took the binoculars, hanging them around his neck.

"Yeah, I can do that." He said, smiling slightly. It was like his dad had said earlier, no more kid stuff. He had to start pulling his weight around here. Sam smiled and nodded in approval.

"All right." She said, patting him on the back. "I'll let your mom know you're on the job. Just holler or come get us if you see anything."

…

It was completely dark now as Glenn followed Daryl through the woods, keeping a tight grip on his Gator Pro blade while the older man led the way with his crossbow, trying to pick up some hint of a trail. Glenn sighed. And Daryl seconded that emotion.

"This is pointless. You got a light?" He asked Glenn. He had been using the dim light of the moon that was filtering down through the tree tops in order to avoid attracting any walkers that might be out there, but this was just getting ridiculous. Glenn handed over the flashlight that he had enough foresight to grab before leaving the house. Daryl clicked it on and shined it on the ground, scanning it for signs that something or someone may have passed through recently. Nothing. Daryl let out an irritated sigh and started walking back in the direction they had just come from. Glenn furrowed his brow slightly in confusion, but he knew enough to follow without needing to ask any stupid questions. Until he saw where they were headed. Daryl had purposefully led him straight back to where they had started from.

"We're just back to square one." Glenn said.

"If you're gonna do a thing, you might as well do it right." Daryl replied, shining the flashlight around until he found traces of a trail. It seemed to be leading in the complete opposite direction Shane had insisted on sending them to look in. Coincidence? Probably not. "There's two sets of tracks right here." He informed Glenn as they continued on. "Shane must've followed him a lot longer than he said." He caught something wet and shiny on a tree trunk out the corner of his eye and shined the light on it. "There's fresh blood on this tree." He'd bet anything it was Shane's. "There's more tracks. Looks like they're walkin' in tandem." He paused when Glenn bumped into him, and glanced back at the Asian boy, wondering if something was wrong.

"Sorry." Glenn apologized quietly, taking a step back. He was just nervous. It was an accident. It was really creepy out there in the woods at night.

"Yeah, there was a little dust up right here." Daryl said, deciding to just pretend it didn't happen.

"What do you mean?" Glenn asked.

"I mean something went down." Daryl replied. There were definite signs of a struggle.

"This is getting weird." Glenn commented nervously, glancing around.

"Had a little trouble." Daryl added when he spotted the black blindfold they had used on Randall whenever transporting him and the night they almost executed him. He hadn't been wearing that the last time Daryl saw him. Glenn leaned down and picked it up off the ground, staring at it.

_CRACK._

They both exchanged a glance when they heard something stomping towards them and ducked behind some thick tree trunks for cover. Glenn cautiously peeked out and saw that it appeared to be a walker from the way it was limping and shuffling, but it was kind of hard to tell for sure from this distance in the dark, especially since Randall had a limp too.

Daryl let out a soft, low whistle to get his attention and tossed the unlit flashlight back to him so he could light whatever it was up for him once it got closer since it seemed to be headed their way. The two of them waited as the sound of rustling leaves drew closer and closer. Daryl had his crossbow ready to fire. The human figure limping in the dark stepped in between the trees, and Glenn shined the flashlight in its face while he gripped the Gator Pro in his other hand. He was caught off-guard by what he saw. It was Randall, and he was a _walker_. Walker-Randall snarled and lunged at Glenn, knocking the flashlight out of his hands. Daryl wanted to shoot it, but without the light to see, there was a risk he might hit Glenn during the struggle. Glenn grunted as he pushed it away and fell the ground. Daryl took that as his chance and loosed his arrow, but he missed. The walker growled and threw itself at Daryl, attacking before he had time to reload. Daryl fell backwards and found himself stuck pinned between the walker and a tree as he held his crossbow up to block it and keep it from getting within biting range. Seeing that the reliable redneck was in trouble, Glenn felt around for his own weapon and staggered to his feet, tackling the walker away from Daryl. He used to moment to roll it over so that he was on top and swung the blade in his hand down, burying it in the top of walker-Randall's skull. It was an instant kill. Daryl picked the flashlight up off the ground as the both got back on their feet, breathing heavily after their struggler. Randall had been a hell of a lot more formidable as a walker than he had ever been as a human. Daryl shined the light on Randall's head and saw the job Glenn had done on his skull.

"Nice." He complimented the Asian boy, giving him a pat on the back, before leaning down and retrieving his crossbow while Glenn pulled his Gator Pro back out of Randall's skull. They both stared down at the late prisoner for a moment before Daryl crouched down beside the body and started examining it for wounds.

"Got his neck broke." Daryl observed. He grunted as he pulled on Randall's corpse, flipping him onto his back with one hand while he continued to hold the light with the other. Glenn squatted down beside Daryl as he continued to search the body for bite marks. "He's got no bites."

"Yeah, none you can see." Glenn said. Daryl checked Randall's neck again.

"No, I'm tellin' you. He died from this." Daryl insisted, glancing at him.

"How is that possible?" Glenn asked. The two of them shared an uneasy look with each other before casting another glance around the woods and standing back up again. Whatever it was, it was time to go. Daryl grabbed his misfired arrow from the tree it was stuck in as he passed. Glenn took one last look down at Randall's body and turned to follow Daryl back to the farmhouse. Maybe Sam or Rick would know.


	27. Chapter 27

I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**Chapter 27: Beside The Dying Fire**

* * *

"I'm going after them." Andrea said abruptly from her seat on the sofa in the parlor next to Beth. They had all ended up gathering there while waiting for Rick and the others to return. Carl was still upstairs, keeping watch for them.

"What? No." Sam said firmly, marching over to join them from where she had been peeking out between the boards over the windows.

"Aren't you worried?" Andrea asked her. "They should have been back by now."

"Don't. They could be anywhere." Lori pointed out.

"She's right, and if Randall comes back, we're gonna need you here." Sam added. "Those guys are tough, they can take care of themselves. They'll be back before you know it, you'll see." And see they did. Not a moment after she had finished speaking, Daryl and Glenn strolled in through the door.

"Rick and Shane ain't back?" Daryl asked after glancing around.

"No." Lori replied.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, noting the somewhat unnerved looks on their faces.

"We heard a shot." Daryl said. He could tell by the look on her face that Sam understood the implications behind that statement. She bit her lip.

"Maybe they found Randall." Lori suggested.

"We found him." Daryl told her.

"Is he back in the shed?" Maggie asked.

"He's a walker." Daryl replied.

"Did you find the walker that bit him?" Hershel asked.

"No, the weird thing is he wasn't bit." Glenn said, finally speaking up.

"His neck was broke." Daryl explained.

Sam's eyes widened. _What?_

"So he fought back." Patricia said.

"The thing is, Shane and Randall's track were right on top of each other." Daryl said, glancing at Sam as she sunk down to sit on the piano bench. "And Shane ain't no tracker, so he didn't come up behind him. They were together."

"Which means?" Brandon asked, hoping he wasn't the only one feeling like he was missing something.

"Which means Rick's in some serious danger." Sam said, taking a breath as she collected herself and straightened up again. Lori glanced at her and crossed the room to speak to Daryl.

"Would you please get back out there, find Rick and Shane and find out what on earth is going on?" Lori quietly pleaded with him.

"You got it." Daryl said, nodding. "Sam?"

"Right behind you." She said, grabbing her bow and its sling.

"Thank you." Lori told them as Sam, Daryl, and Glenn left to go find her husband and Shane.

"Oh my God." Sam said when they stepped out onto the porch and saw what was waiting for them out there. A huge herd of walkers was already making its way toward them. Why didn't Carl say something? Did he fall asleep up there? Hershel and Andrea stepped out to see why they were still standing around on the porch.

"Patricia, kill the lights." Hershel whispered to the nurse.

"I'll get the guns." Andrea said.

"Good idea." Sam told her.

"Maybe they're just passing, like the herd on the highway." Glenn suggested as Maggie, Jimmy, Carol, and T-Dog came out to have a look too before going back inside to help the others. "You said you waited a group of them out before. Should we just go inside?" He asked turning to Sam.

"Not unless there's a tunnel downstairs I don't know about." She replied. "I only had to deal with ten, and that cabin was made of stone."

"A herd that size would rip the house down." Daryl said.

"Carl's gone." Lori announced as she came onto the porch in panic.

"What?" Daryl asked.

"He—He was upstairs. Sam had him on watch duty. I can't find him anywhere." She began to explain quickly, glancing around.

"I didn't see him come down. T-Dog had that side of the house, maybe he saw something, but I doubt he'd have let him go off alone if he had." Sam said, moving past her to go back inside and check with him.

"Maybe he's hiding." Glenn said, trying to calm Lori down.

"He's supposed to be upstairs." Lori insisted. She saw him up there herself when she stopped in to check on him. "I'm not leaving without my boy."

"We're not." Carol said, taking her by the hands. "We're gonna look again. We're gonna find him."

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll find him." Brandon said as he steered Sam back out onto the porch, followed by T-Dog, Hershel, and Andrea, who had the gun bag. "We need you out here."

"He's right." Hershel said as they set the bag down on the porch and unzipped it. "We need everyone who knows how to use a gun to help fend them off. Lori's his mother. She'll know where to look for him." Maggie reached around her father, grabbing two shotguns. She held one out to Glenn. The other was for her.

"Maggie." Glenn said.

"You grow up country, you pick up a thing or two." Maggie said, cocking her shotgun.

"I got the number—it's no use." Daryl told them.

"You can go if you want." Hershel told him, loading up a shotgun.

"You gonna take 'em all on?" Daryl asked.

"We have guns. We have cars." Hershel replied, cocking his gun.

"Kill as many as we can, and we'll use the cars to lead the rest of them off the farm." Andrea added.

"Are you serious?" Sam asked.

"This is my farm." Hershel said, standing up. "I'll die here." Sam and Daryl exchanged a glance as the stubborn old man walked off before shrugging.

"All right." Sam said, sighing, as she grabbed a second pistol from the bag and checked to make sure it was fully loaded.

"It's as a good a night as any." Daryl said, hopping over the porch railing. Sam moved to follow him, but paused to glance back at Brandon.

"Go ahead. I'll be fine." Brandon told her. She leaned down and grabbed her mother's hunting rifle from the bag.

"Remember how to use it?" She asked, holding it out to him.

"Yeah. I promise I'll take good care of it." He said with a small smile.

"Good. Because I'm gonna want it back when this over." She told him, smiling, as she gave him a pat on the arm and hopped over the porch railing to follow Daryl.

"You're not gonna go with her?" Jimmy asked Brandon as T-Dog kneeled down beside Andrea to get a bigger gun from the bag.

"No. She's in good hands." Brandon replied, smiling, as he watched Sam run off and jump onto the back of Daryl's motorcycle with him. "I think I'm gonna take the RV. You want a ride?"

They left the house to draw away the walkers in three vehicle caravan. Daryl and Sam were in the lead on his motorcycle, followed by Brandon and Jimmy in the RV, T-Dog and Andrea in the blue pickup truck, and Glenn and Maggie in the Hyundai. While Daryl drove towards the barn, Sam hugged the bike tight with her legs while she kept both hands and guns raised in the air, taking down walkers with deadly accuracy. Not to be outdone, Daryl pulled to a stop in front of the barbed wire fence several yards away from the barn, which someone had apparently set a fire inside of, and started firing his own pistol. Brandon pulled the RV up and parked near them, leaning out the window to shoot the rifle while Jimmy opened the doors and leaned out of them to shoot with a handgun. The others continued driving along the fence while the designated shooters, Andrea and Glenn leaned out the car windows and lit the yard up drive-by shooting style. Daryl aimed carefully, shooting six more in the head before running out of ammo. Even shooting double handed, there were too many for Sam to take out by herself. They were at the fence now. It was just a matter of minutes before there would be enough of them to tear the wire down.

"Brace yourself." Daryl warned her as he started up the motorcycle's engine again. Sam didn't need to be told twice, she wrapped one arm around Daryl's waist, holding tight, as he kicked off and the bike shot forward, shooting with the other as the fence collapsed and they rode away towards the RV.

"Yo!" Daryl shouted, getting Brandon's attention as they rolled up. "Must've been Rick or Shane who started that fire. Maybe they're tryin' to get out back! Why don't you circle 'round?" Sticking around here was a bad idea now that part of the fence was down. They were about to get swarmed.

"Got it." Brandon said, nodding in understanding, as he ducked back inside with the rifle. "Come on, Jimmy. Time to go." Jimmy nodded and stepped back inside, closing the doors behind him.

"Go!" Sam shouted at both drivers. As she shot another walker. They were almost on them. This wasn't just a herd, it was freakin' tsunami. The two men headed her advice and took off. Brandon pulled straight through the gate and headed for the burning barn, while Daryl drove away perpendicular to the path Brandon had chosen.

"How many shots you got left?" Daryl asked.

"Not much." Sam admitted grimly. They were going to be out of the fight pretty soon at this rate.

Meanwhile, Brandon followed Daryl's suggestion and circled around to the other side of the barn.

"I see 'em! They're up there!" Jimmy said, pointing to where Rick and carl were standing in the opening to the farm loft on the second level. "Pull up next to where the roof overhangs there."

"On it." Brandon said, following the younger man's instructions without question, keeping his eyes in front as he drove.

Rick let out a sigh of relief when the RV stopped for them, and quickly jumped onto the overhang, helping Carl across and down the slope of the roof, then onto the top of the RV.

"Go, go." He urged his son, steering him towards the ladder so they could climb down the back of the RV before the walkers circled around. They had to get off the roof while they still could. They'd get thrown off if they tried to ride out on the roof on this bumpy and uneven ground. The front of the RV was already swarmed. "Come on, let's try to get out the back." Brandon whispered as he carefully climbed out of the driver's seat. Jimmy nodded and moved to follow him, but then the walkers suddenly managed to bust through the doors and grab him.

"Aah! No!" Jimmy screamed as he went down.

"Jimmy!" Brandon shouted, turning back to help him.

"Aaaaah! _Aaaaaahhh!"_ Jimmy screamed in agony as Brandon tried to pull him away to safety, but it was too late. The walkers had torn into him and were already devouring his flesh, stripping the bones of his legs clean. And then it happened, one of them scraped it's teeth against Brandon's hand. He yanked his hand back as if he had been burned, but it was too late. He stared at the wound in horror. It wasn't serious, but it was enough to infect him. Even and idiot like him knew that much. Even if he made it out of that RV alive, he couldn't go back to the others. He'd end up turning and hurting them. This was it. He was done.

"Aagh!" Brandon yelled in anger and frustration for not being able to save himself or Jimmy as he aimed the rifle at the nearest walker and fired. If he wasn't going to make it anyway, them he might as well stay here and take as many of them with him as he could. That's what Dave would do is he were here, so that's what he was going to do now.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

_BANG!_

Rick shot the walker that was waiting for him at the bottom of the ladder before hopping down and shooting several more that were too close for comfort.

"Carl, now!" Rick shouted, signaling to his son that it was time to start climbing. "All right, go." He said, urging the boy to move forward, as they circled round to the driver's side of the RV.

Father and son both froze for a moment when they realized they could hear Brandon's screams and fresh blood splattered against the inside of the window. The two people who had come to save them were dead.

"This way." Rick said, quickly coming back to his senses when he remembered he still had to get his son to safety. "This way!" He said, leading Carl away. "There, head into the woods, now," Rick whispered urgently as they rounded the corner of the barn and the treeline came into view. "fast as you can, come on." They'd use the woods for cover and head back to the house that way.

…

Sam and Daryl sat on his motorcycle and watched while the blazing inferno that used to be Hershel's barn burned fiercely in the cold dark night from outside the outermost fence on the farm, a few miles away. Their part in the last stand to defend the farm felt like it had been rather short but glorious. They were completely out of ammo aside from their arrows.

"Do you think the others made it out yet?" Sam asked, holding onto him even though they were stopped. She hoped Rose had enough sense to run away without them.

"They'd better have." Daryl replied. The farm was completely overrun from what he could see. The others were either gone or dead.

"Aaaah!" A familiar screamed echoed through the night, snapping both of them back to attention.

"That sounded like Carol." Sam said as Daryl started up the motorcycle again.

"Hold on." He said, kicking off as he revved the engine and started driving back to the farmhouse. Carol could be annoying as hell sometimes, but they couldn't just leave her there to get torn to pieces.

…

Carol was panting, sobbing, as she pushed herself to keep moving and stay ahead of the walkers chasing her. She didn't know how much longer she could keep it up. Just as she was about to give in, she heard the familiar roar of Daryl's old motorcycle racing towards her and saw its single headlight shining as it drew closer.

"Come on, we ain't got all day!" Daryl shouted at Carol as he pulled up and Sam pressed closer to him to make more room for her on the back. It was going to be a tight squeeze, but it was better than dying. Carol's sobs of fear turned into sobs of relief as she ran over and hopped onto the bike behind Sam, clinging to the younger woman for dear life as Daryl took off like a shot down the dirt road, leaving the herd of walkers behind to eat their dust.

They rode off into the night. They didn't stop for anything. Daryl just kept driving and driving through the back roads, expertly weaving past whatever abandoned cars and walkers they might have encountered along the way. They knew the sun must be rising, because the sky was starting to get lighter again, but they couldn't stop, not yet.


	28. Chapter 28

I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**Chapter 28: On The Run**

* * *

"Wait, wait. Stop." Sam said abruptly when she caught the flash of something silver through the trees out the corner of her eyes. Daryl slowed to a stop, figuring it was safe enough a place as any now that they had finally managed to put some distance between them and the herd.

"Whatever it is, make it quick." He told her. There might still be some trying to follow the sound of his motorcycle.

"I think I just saw one of our cars through the trees back there." Sam said.

"Which one?" Carol asked.

"Silver, so it's probably Maggie and Glenn in the Hyundai." Sam replied thoughtfully. "They might have seen what happened to the others."

"Well, then we'd better go and get 'em. Before they decide to elope." Daryl said, revving the engine, while the ladies readjusted their grips to hold on tighter again before turning the motorcycle and taking off again in pursuit of the lost Asian and the farmer's daughter.

…

"I don't know how much longer we can stay here." Hershel whispered as he, Rick, and Carl hid behind his car. They had been waiting for the others on the highway where they lost Sophia for hours, and in that time, they had managed to avoid a couple of lone walkers, but he didn't know how much longer their luck was going to hold out.

"I—I'm not leaving without mom." Carl told his dad.

"So we're just gonna walk away?" Rick asked, glancing back at Hershel. "Not knowing if my wife, your girls are still out there? How do we live with that?"

"You've only got one concern now—just one—keeping him alive." Hershel replied. "Nature may be throwing us a curveball, but that law is still true."

Rick bit his lip and glanced around. He didn't like it, but he could see the sense in the older man's words. Rick knelt down in front of his son.

"Carl." He said, trying to find the right words. What were the right words to tell your son he had to abandon his mother? "It's not safe here. I'm sorry." Rick apologized as Carl bowed his head and started to cry. "Well—" The rest of that sentence died in his throat when he heard the familiar rumble of an old motorcycle. Rick stood up to look with Hershel and Carl as they glanced across to the highway running parallel to the one they were on.

It was Daryl all right, and he had Sam with him on the back of his motorcycle. He was followed shortly by Glenn, Maggie, and Carol in the Hyundai, and they were followed by T-Dog, Beth, and Lori in the blue truck. Rick was stunned. He glanced back and Hershel, who smiled, and the three of them began making their way to where the others had turned and crossed over the grass meridian between the two highways. Daryl pulled up next to the car they had left the message for Sophia on and stopped. Sam smiled when she saw Rick, Carl and Hershel headed their way. Rick clapped hands with Daryl's in a brotherly handshake, grateful to him for his timely arrival with the others.

"Oh, thank God!" Lori exclaimed, laughing, when she climbed out of the truck and saw her husband and son waiting for her. Carl immediately ran over to his mother and pulled her into a hug, while Rick smiled and watched them together for a moment before joining them. His hope and faith may have been wavering, but in that moment, seeing that his wife and friends had somehow managed to survive after all, he felt it flicker back to life. Sam smiled and hugged Daryl, getting caught up in the 'feels' flying around as Maggie and Beth ran over to hug Hershel. If she didn't know any better, Sam might think her favorite redneck was blushing.

"Where'd you find everyone?" Rick asked.

"Well, those guys' taillights zigzaggin' all over the road, figured he had to be Asian drivin' like that." Daryl said, teasing Glenn.

"Good one." Glenn said, chuckling. You know what, he didn't even care anymore. He was just happy to be alive and reunited with everyone again.

"Where's the rest of us?" Daryl asked, noting that Brandon, Jimmy, Andrea, and Patricia were still absent.

"We're the only ones who made it so far." Rick replied, avoiding Sam's gaze.

"Brandon?" Sam asked tentatively.

"He saved us." Rick said, placing a hand on Carl's shoulder. "But the RV—It was overrun… He didn't make it." He added regretfully. "I'm sorry." Sam nodded in understanding, covering her mouth as tears began to form in her eyes. Daryl gently placed a hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in holding her close while she mourned the death of the last friend and survivor from her old life.

"Shane?" Lori asked hesitantly, standing up. Rick shook his head.

"Andrea?" Glenn asked.

"She saved me, then I lost her." Carol said meekly.

"We saw her go down." T-Dog added somberly, wishing he could say differently.

"Patricia?" Hershel asked.

"They got her too." Beth said, sniffling. "Took her right in front of me. I was—I was holdin' onto her, Daddy. She Just—" She cried, unable to bring herself to finish. Hershel pulled his youngest daughter close and held her, trying to comfort her. "What about Jimmy?" She asked. "Did you see Jimmy?"

"He was in the RV, with Brandon." Rick replied, wishing he had better news for the distraught girl.

"You definitely saw Andrea?" Carol asked.

"There were walkers everywhere." Lori said.

"Did you see her?" Sam asked again, wiping her eyes, as she looked up from crying on Daryl's shoulder. Neither Lori or T-Dog said anything. They couldn't be completely sure now that they stopped to think about it. It had been so chaotic at the time…

"I'm gonna go back." Daryl said, moving to climb back on his motorcycle. Sam was right behind him.

"No." Rick said.

"We can't just leave her." Sam said. Andrea could get on her nerves sometimes, but no one deserved death by a thousand walkers.

"We don't even know if she's there." Lori said.

"She isn't there. She isn't." Rick insisted. "She's somewhere else, or she's dead. There's no way to find her."

"So we're not even gonna look for her?" Glenn asked.

"We've gotta keep moving. There have been walkers crawling all over here." Rick told him.

"I say head east." T-Dog said.

"Stay off the main roads." Sam said, sighing. "The bigger the road, the more walkers."

"The more assholes like this one." Daryl added, grabbing his crossbow, as a walker in an argyle sweater started shuffling towards them. "I got him." He raised his crossbow and fired, taking it down with an arrow through its eye.

With that decided, the group returned to their assorted vehicles, except for the truck, which they decided to leave behind, and moved over to the parallel highway before taking off to put some more distance between themselves and the herd at the farm, planning to take the next bypass they came across to a less heavily traveled road.

…

They spent the rest of the day driving around. Sam watched and held on to Daryl as blurs of green, yellow, and red flew by. The leaves were starting to change. It was beautiful, a sight rarely seen back in Louisiana. It usually didn't cold enough for that to happen until much later in the year. Most trees didn't even lose their leaves. It always seemed like that state was green year-round. The only trees whose leaves really changed colors before losing them were just the Bradford pears, Chinese tallows, and maybe the occasional maple. Everything else was either green or bare. She missed her home, her family. Even Brandon was gone now. But she was proud of him for dying with his boots on, and despite everything that had happened, she felt safe in that moment, holding onto Daryl while she listened to the roar of his motorcycle and felt the cold Georgian autumn air rush through her dark hair.

HONK!

The brief escape and illusion of freedom from the world around them was brought to a halt when the sound of the horn of the red and white car Rick was driving pierced the air and the three vehicle caravan rolled to a stop. Daryl killed the noisy engine on his bike as Glenn, Carol, and the Greenes climbed out of the silver Hyundai right behind them to stretch their legs for a bit after being cooped up in the car all day. Sam noticed Hershel, Maggie, and Glenn had very wisely brought their shotguns with them just in case as Rick's family and T-Dog walked up.

"You out?" Daryl asked Rick.

"Running on fumes." He replied.

"We can't stay here." Maggie said.

"We can't all fit in one car." Glenn said.

"We'll have to make a run for some gas in the morning." Rick said. The sun was already sitting pretty low in the sky, and they would need the remaining hours of light if they were going to stop and set up camp somewhere.

"Spend the night here?" Carol asked skeptically.

"I guess, it's as good a place as any." Sam said, glancing around. There was plenty of wood and other natural materials lying around that they could use to make some temporary shelter with to shield themselves from the cold.

"I'm freezing." Carl said with chattering teeth. Sam immediately turned around and started digging through the saddle bags on the side of Daryl's motorcycle while Rick removed his jacket and placed it over Carl's shoulder's.

"We'll build a fire, yeah?" Lori suggested.

"You go lookin' for firewood, stay close." Daryl advised them as Sam pulled out the fur stole/shawl thing she had made in her spare time using several rabbit skins.

"Here." She said, pulling Carl's hood up over his head, before wrapping the fur around him like a scarf. "Some winter wilderness survival tips for you: most of your body heat escapes through your head, so keep it covered. Keep your feet and hands dry and warm as much as possible, and if you have to go, don't hold it in. Believe it or not, going to the bathroom regularly can keep you warmer and save your life, because when you hold it in, it puts more stress on your body and it disrupts blood circulation. Your body will always automatically do what it has to protect vital major organs, so it concentrates blood circulation unevenly around the center of your body, which makes your limbs and extremities more susceptible to things like frostbite." She glanced up and noticed they were all staring at her. "I was a Girl Scout. We like to be prepared." She explained.

"Anyway, only got so many arrows." Daryl said, suppressing a slight smirk, as he picked up where he had left off. He didn't know why they were so surprised. Sam hadn't survived on her own for so long for nothing. "How you doin' on ammo?" He asked Rick.

"Not enough." Rick replied grimly.

"We can't just sit here with our asses hanging out." Maggie said.

"Watch your mouth." Hershel scolded her. "Everyone stop panicking and listen to Rick."

"All right, we'll set up a perimeter." Rick said. "In the morning, we'll find gas and some supplies. We'll keep pushing on."

"Glenn and I can go make a run now, try and scrounge up some gas." Maggie suggested.

"No, we stay together." Rick insisted. "God forbid something happens and people get stranded without a car."

"Rick, we're stranded now." Glenn pointed out.

"I know it looks bad, we've all been through hell and worse, but at least we found _each other_. I wasn't sure—I really wasn't—but we did. We're together. Let's keep it that way." Rick said urgently. "We'll find shelter somewhere. There's gotta be a place."

"If there isn't, we can make one." Sam added.

"Rick, Sam, look around, okay? There's walkers everywhere. They're migrating or something." Glenn said.

"There's gotta be a place—not just where we hole up, but that we fortify, hunker down, pull ourselves together, build a _life_ for each other. I know it's out there. We just have to _find_ it." Rick said passionately.

"Even if we do find a place and we think it's safe, we can never be sure." Maggie said. "For how long? Look what happened with the farm. We fooled ourselves into thinking that that was safe."

"We won't make that mistake again." Hershel said.

"If there's a pattern to the walker's movements, we'll find it." Sam said. "Remember, they're basically just animals—driven by pure instinct—and animals can be easy to predict once you've studied their behavior patterns long enough. If we can figure out a way to predict where and when a herd will pass through, we can find a way to keep track of them and learn how to avoid them entirely altogether—like how Indians used to track herds of buffalo. We've just gone back to being nomads like them for awhile, that's all."

"Yeah—yes. We'll make camp tonight, over there. Get on the road at the break of day." Rick said, encouraged by her words, as he pointed to the remnants of an old stone building on the side of the highway by a small waterfall. It probably used to be one of the many old grist mills that dotted the countryside in Georgia, maybe it was even the one this road, 'Elders Mill Road' had been named for. Daryl nodded slightly as he stared at the spot. It was open and without a roof, but the remaining walls would provide them with some cover, and its close proximity to the waterfall meant they'd have a good source for plenty of running, non stagnant water. It should see through the night just fine, and he liked the sound of Sam's idea to develop a system to predict the movement of herds. It'd be a huge help if they could pull that off.

"This feel right to you?" Carol asked as she walked over to him. He glanced back at her. How much of a choice did she think they had out there? What did she want a Holiday Inn?

"What if walkers come through or another group like Randall's?" Beth asked Rick nervously.

"Then we defend ourselves. As best we can." Sam said matter-of-factly, handing the younger girl her hunting knife after a brief glance at Hershel to make sure it was okay since she was the only one not carrying a weapon. The old man nodded. He didn't exactly feel comfortable with the idea of Beth holding a gun, but he wanted her to feel safe. Beth hesitated for a moment before taking the knife. It was better than nothing.

"You know I found Randall, right?" Daryl asked Rick. "He had turned, but he wasn't bit." Rick stared at him for a moment before looking away, thinking.

"How's that possible?" Beth asked.

"Rick, what the hell happened?" Lori asked.

Sam and Daryl didn't envy Rick in that moment, having everyone look to him like he should have all the answers while simultaneously expressing doubt in him when he was just as human as the rest of them.

"Shane killed Randall." Daryl answered for him. "Just like he always wanted to."

"And the herd got him?" Lori asked. Rick glanced at her but didn't say anything. Sam didn't like the look in his eyes or the way he seemed to be hesitating to answer his wife's question. He knew something, but he didn't want to say what. She had a feeling she might know why.

"… We're all infected." Rick said after a long moment of silence. Sam closed her eyes while the others stared at him in shock.

"What?" Daryl asked, thinking he must've misheard.

"We're carriers, aren't we?" Sam asked as she opened her eyes again, furrowing her brow. Rick nodded.

"At the CDC, Jenner told me. Whatever it is, we all carry it." He explained for the others' benefit.

"And you never said anything?" Carol asked accusingly. "Either of you?"

"Would it have made a difference?" Rick asked.

"I didn't start to suspect anything until last night, when Daryl and Glenn told us what happened to Randall." Sam said. "But I've always thought it was a little strange that even though this thing started out airborne, only a certain percentage of the population started showing symptoms before it mutated and became limited to being passed on through contact with body fluids. Now we know why. It's like the flu. There's more than one strain. We all have some form of it. It just stays dormant and harmless in survivors like us until we die or get bitten. Then the virus takes over."

"You knew this whole time?" Glenn asked, glancing from her to Rick.

"How could I have known for sure?" Rick asked defensively. "You saw how crazy that mo—"

"That is not your call." Glenn said. "Okay, when I found out about the walkers in the barn, _I told_, for the good of everyone."

"Well, I thought it best if people didn't know." Rick replied calmly. This wasn't like the situation with the walkers in the barn—they couldn't fix this. It was something they were all just gonna have to live with, whether they liked it or not. Rick turned and walked away from the group, heading for the old mill and waterfall. He was tired of the looks they were giving him. The others all glanced around at each other as Lori ran after her husband.

"Well, I certainly felt better not knowing about it." Sam commented in Rick's defense. "Besides, you're all so mad at him, but when was he supposed to tell us? When would've been the right time to side blind us with news like that?" She asked. "The day after we had just barely managed to escape with our lives after losing Jackie, while Andrea was still recovering from her suicide attempt, Amy's death, and trying to forgive Dale from stopping her? While we were all so worried about trying to find Sophia? When Carl got shot? When there were walkers in the barn? When Hershel was missing, and Beth was in shock? When we learned about the threat Randall's group posed to us? Let's face it, even if he wanted to tell us, there was never a good time to lay the burden of that information on us. We may not agree with Rick's decision, but he did it to protect us. He's been carrying the weight of that knowledge around on his shoulders all by himself ever since that night of the CDC, through everything. Can you even imagine what that must've been like for him?" She asked, looking all of them in the eyes. "He's got all of our problems piled up on top of his own to deal with, but he's always been there for us as a group. At least have enough courtesy to show a little bit of respect."

It was completely silent for a moment while everyone either stared at her or avoided her gaze guiltily. Daryl bowed his head.

"All right." He said, breaking the silence, as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Think you can climb down off your soapbox long enough to help me hunt?" He asked calmly. She glanced back at him, looking a bit sheepish all of a sudden when she realized how preachy she must have sounded, even though it had needed saying.

"We should get started on gathering firewood and collecting water." Hershel added, stepping up to help in Rick's absence. "We need to get as much done as we can before we lose the daylight."

…

It was a full moon that night. T-Dog was standing up on top of on of the stone walls with a rifle, keeping watch, while Rick patrolled around the outside of the ruins they had taken shelter in with his Python. Daryl was tending to the fire while Sam skinned the raccoon they had caught earlier so she could prepare it for supper. She had Carl helping her by getting the wild berries and tube roots she had taught him how to find cleaned up and ready to cook with it. Hershel was holding Beth, while Maggie and Glenn made pine needle tea as per the directions passed down to Sam through her grandfather. It was supposed to be good for vitamin C, and old family cure for scurvy, especially when the growths were new and young. Lori returned from her quick bathroom break and tucked her gun back into the back of her pants before sitting down next to Carl.

"Aren't elderberries poisonous?" Lori asked, concerned.

"Only the leaves and stems of the plant are. The flowers and berries are fine. You can eat them raw too." Sam replied. "You can use them to make tea, jam, pies… even wine."

"Oh. Guess we'll have to keep that last one in mind." Lori said. She wouldn't mind some wine right about now, if she wasn't pregnant.

"I know how to make beer too, if anyone else is interested." Sam said, smiling, as she glanced up at the others. "One of my college friends was into anthropology. He taught me about how the Ancient Egyptians used to make barley beer. The alcohol content was really low, but it was high in tetracycline, believe it or not."

"How do they know that?" Hershel asked, finding the topic interesting. "Tetracycline's a modern antibiotic."

"By studying the bones found in ancient tombs." Sam replied. "They realized there were signs that the owners had been consuming a steady amount of antibiotic like tetracycline over the years, so they began studying and analyzing know foods and medicines of the time. Amongst all of the 'advances' tonics and healing elixirs of the time, it was the early beer that proved to be the life-saving culprit."

"Sometimes I think you just make half of this stuff up." Carl admitted out loud, earning a few scattered laughs. Not everyone's heart was in it, though.

"We're not safe with him." Carol whispered, leaning closer to Daryl, while the others talked. He glanced at her. "Keeping something like that from us. Why do you need him? He's just gonna pull you down."

"No." Daryl said, snapping a skinny branch in half before tossing it into the fire. "Rick's done all right by me."

"You're his henchman. And I'm a burden." Carol told him, unintentionally raising her voice slightly. "You deserve better." Daryl stared at her.

"Oh, please, just shut up." Sam told her, causing both of them to glance at her. "Will you stop complaining and projecting and help me cook this damn raccoon?" Just when she was finally getting the others to lighten up a little bit, Carol had to go and summon a rain cloud. Carol stared at the younger woman incredulously and opened her mouth to speak.

"What do you want?" Daryl asked Carol, interrupting before it turned into an argument. Sam must be more affected by everything than she was letting on, because she normally had more patience with the older woman than that.

"A man of honor." Carol replied softly, gazing up at him.

"Rick has honor." Daryl told her before looking away. He tossed another stick on the fire.

"I think we should take our chances." Maggie told Glenn.

"Don't be foolish." Hershel told her. "There's no food, no fuel, no ammo."

_RUSTLE._

"What was that?" Beth asked nervously as everyone looked up at the sound of something rustling in the leaves nearby.

"Could be anything." Daryl said, standing up, followed by Carol and Glenn. "Could be another raccoon, could be a opossum."

"A walker." Glenn added. Everyone except for Sam, Lori, and Carl were standing now.

"We need to leave. What are we waiting for?" Carol asked anxiously.

"One of the cars is out of gas, remember?" Sam said, glancing up at her, as she began placing strips of raccoon meat on a smooth, flat rock to grill. "Are you suggesting we leave half of our group behind?"

Rick walked up when he heard the commotion and glanced at T-Dog, who pointed in the direction the sound had come from, back towards the road, though he couldn't actually see anything out there in the dark at the moment.

"Which way?" Glenn asked, deciding to take care of whatever it was himself.

"It came from over there." Maggie said, grabbing her gun.

"Back from where we came." Beth said.

"Yeah." Maggie agreed.

"The last thing we need is for everyone to be running off in the dark." Rick said firmly. "We don't have the vehicles. No one's traveling on foot."

_SNAP._

Everybody jumped.

"Don't panic." Hershel whispered.

"I'm not—I'm not sitting here, waiting for another herd to blow through." Maggie said. "We need to move, now."

"No one is going anywhere." Rick said sternly.

_"Do something."_ Carol hissed at him.

_"I am doing something!"_ He whisper-yelled back. "I'm keeping this group _together_, _alive._ I've been doing that all along, no matter what. I didn't ask for _this_. _I killed my best friend for you people, for Christ's sake!"_

Even Sam froze upon hearing those last words. She stopped what she was doing and glanced up at him. Carl was staring at his father in shock, they all were.

"You saw what he was like, how he pushed me, how he compromised us, how he threatened us." Rick said, continuing on even though his voice was breaking. He glanced down at his wife and son. Sam noticed Lori was very pointedly looking away from her husband and realized she already knew. He had already told Lori, and she blamed him for it. That was why there had been an awkward tension between the couple ever since she ran after him earlier. He must have told her then.

"Shane came at you, didn't he?" Sam asked, causing him to glance at her. He noted the look of certainty in both her and Daryl's eyes as they looked at him. They both knew. They understood, and they were still disappointed that a good man like Rick had had to kill the man who was supposed to be his best friend, but they didn't blame him. It had been self-defense, and they knew that. Rick wouldn't have made a move like that unless it was absolutely necessary.

"He staged the whole Randall thing, led me out to put a bullet in my back." Rick continued, glancing back at his son. He knew Lori wasn't listening—she refused to even look at him—but he needed Carl to understand. He couldn't stand to be hated by his son too. "He was my friend, but he came after _me_." Carl started crying as he turned to face his mother, and Lori held him tight, whispering comforting words in his ear. "My hands are _clean_." Rick insisted in his defense.

With the way most of them were staring at him, you'd think they'd have preferred it if he had died and Shane had been the one to live. He glanced up at T-Dog. T-Dog looked away, not knowing what to think. It had just been one big shock on top of another since the previous night.

"Maybe you people are better off without me." Rick said after a moment. Daryl and Sam could lead the group. They knew how to survive out there. They're hands were still clean. "Go ahead." He told the others, stepping back. "I say there's a place for us, but maybe—maybe it's just another pipe dream. Maybe—Maybe I'm fooling myself again. W-Why don't you—Why don't you go and find out for _yourself_?" He asked them. "_Send me a postcard._" Sam and Daryl glanced around at the others. No one moved. No one said anything. "Go on, there's the door." Rick told them, gesturing to the open doorway behind him. "You can do better? Let's see how far you get." Rick paused and waited for another moment, giving them a chance to speak up. "No takers? _Fine._ But let's get one thing straight—you're staying, this isn't a democracy anymore." Rick declared sternly, staring at all of them, before turning and leaving to start patrolling again.

Sam and Daryl exchanged a glance. Looked like the others had made the mistake of awakening a sleeping tiger.


	29. Chapter 29

Author's Note: I'm considering maybe doing an arc to cover what may have happened during the winter between seasons two and three, but I don't think it'll be very long if I do. Please let me know what you think.

I own nothing but my OC.

* * *

**Chapter 29: Looks Like Rain  
**

* * *

"Hey. Carl, Beth." Sam said with a soft whistle to get their attention. "Come take a look at this. This is another good one." She told them, pointing to the patch of chickweed she had just found.

"What is it?" Beth asked as they squatted down beside her to take a better look. It had been roughly three weeks since that night they spent at the old mill, and Sam, with Daryl's help, had been teaching the others some of the finer points of living off the land while on the run from walkers. While Daryl took Rick and the other men hunting, she would stay behind and help keep and eye on the other women and teach them how to forage and build shelter.

"Chickweed." Sam replied, smiling. "It's an invasive species, but right now it's a good thing for us that it's become naturalized here, because it likes cool and humid climates and is hardy enough to keep thriving during the winter. Chickweed tastes good and is good for you with ascorbic-acid, beta-carotene, calcium, magnesium, niacin, potassium, riboflavin, selenium, thiamin, zinc, copper, and Gamma-linolenic-acid. And, unlike many wild edibles, the chickweed's stems, leaves, flowers and seeds are all edible. It does hold nitrates and people with allergies to daisies might want to pass it by. Only the Mouse-ear chickweed has to be cooked. The rest can be eaten raw, but I think it tastes better cooked. There are some reasonably close look-alikes, but three things separates chickweed from poisonous pretenders. Any guesses what they are?" She asked.

"No milky sap?" Carl guessed.

"Right." She said, smiling. "No milky sap." Carl and Beth smiled at each other, happy their previous lessons were paying off. They knew now that milky sap meant the plant was poisonous and the sap contained a form of latex that didn't exactly mix well with humans. Anything with milky sap was to be avoided and left alone, never consumed. "Next, it has one line of hairs on its stem, that changes sides with each pair of leaves. Lastly, if you bend the stem, rotate each end counter each other, and pull gently the outer part of the stem will separated but the elastic inner part will not and you will have a stretched inner part between the two stem ends."

"Are the leaves always curled up like that?" Beth asked.

"No, that's another nice thing about chickweed. It's also a backyard barometer. Its leaves fold up when it's going to rain. The leaves also fold up at night. Cute. Also, chickweed is not an early riser, blossoms open late in the morning." Sam explained as she began picking it and adding it to the bag.

"Does that mean it's going to rain?" Carl asked, glancing up at the sky through the trees.

"Yep. So we should probably get back and warn the others that it's time to take in the wash, don't you think?" Sam suggested.

"Yeah. Maggie's gonna be so mad if it starts raining on the laundry after all the trouble they went through scrubbin' it clean." Beth agreed.

"Aren't you gonna take it all?" Carl asked when Sam stood up and brushed herself off, leaving behind a couple of clumps.

"No, I know it's tempting Carl, but you've gotta remember to leave Mother Nature's share behind. If you take too much from one plant at a time, you could send it into shock, and it'll get sick and stop growing. It won't be there the next time you need it." She replied as they started walking back to the abandoned cabin the group was currently staying at. "Besides, the animals have to eat too. No one wants to chew on a skinny squirrel, do they?"

"I'd rather not chew on one at all." Beth replied, wrinkling her nose slightly in disgust. She missed all the pork, beef, and chicken they used to have on the farm. Carl laughed.

"Yeah, well I bet it's better than frogs." He said. "Shane used to say he'd teach me how to catch them…" The two girls glanced at him, concerned when he suddenly fell quiet.

"You still mad at your Dad?" Sam asked, putting an arm around each of their shoulders to comfort them as they remembered the terrible revelation Rick had made that night.

"I'm glad my dad didn't die… but I wish he hadn't killed Shane. He was my friend too." Carl said sadly.

"I know. I know." She said, rubbing his back. "I'm sure your dad didn't want to hurt Shane either, but even though he was good to you, there was something that made him turn on Rick. Whatever it was, it was enough to make him a danger to someone who was supposed to be his best friend. He was probably afraid Shane might end up hurting you someday too. It's okay if you want to remember Shane as the man who was your friend and wanted to teach you how to catch frogs, but don't forget how much you love your father and how much he loves you, okay?"

" 'Kay." Carl replied quietly, nodding.

"So… what are you going to make with what we found today?" Beth asked venturing a change of topic in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Well, that all depends on what your Dads and Daryl bring back for us." Sam said thoughtfully. "But I was thinking maybe we could make some 'trail onion soup' using those wild onions, Jerusalem artichokes, and cattails we found. It'll be nice warm, easy to make, and good for the baby. The rest of the stuff we can start hanging up to dry inside or put in a jar to pickle. We need to start preserving more of the food we find _before_ it gets scarce."

…

"Damn it, not again." Daryl cursed when they discovered the deer they had been tracking was being munched on by a walker. It groaned at them as it raised its head. "Shut up." He told it, shooting it right between the eyes with his crossbow.

"This animal hasn't been dead for a minute. It's just one of the legs, maybe we can cut it off, save the rest of the meat." Hershel suggested as he examined the bite area.

"I like the way you think, old man." Daryl told him, pulling out his knife. "Rick?"

"Go ahead." Rick said, giving him the okay. He trusted their judgment. If Hershel thought it was okay, then it probably was, and they couldn't afford to be too picky since there wasn't any food in that cabin they found the other day. There wasn't much left aside from some salt, pepper, vinegar, a jar of peanut butter, and a couple of mustard packets. It had probably already been picked over by another group passing through. "I'll make sure Carol knows it has to be well-done, just to be on the safe side."

…

"Ugh." Lori said, grimacing, as she set down her mug on the counter. "I really hope they find something new today, because I don't know how much more _pine needle tea_ and _pine nuts_ I can stand." Maggie laughed and Carol smiled. They had just gotten back from collecting more water with Glenn, and now the three women were getting ready to cook whatever the others brought back from their hunting and gathering trips while Glenn and T-Dog kept watch.

"At least we have a way to get some form of nutrition." Maggie said as she began pulling out a pot to start boiling more water in. "And I have to admit, it tastes better than I thought it would. Though I definitely wouldn't mind eating some real meat again."

"Amen to that." Carol said as Sam, Beth, and Carl strolled in through the back door.

"What's all that?" Lori asked, surprised to see that they had returned with all three garbage bags nearly full.

"Mostly acorns." Carl replied as he proudly set his bag down in front of his mother. "But Sam says we can grind 'em up and turn them into meal for baking and stuff. It'll take a few days to soak the tallow out of them, but once we do, maybe we can have some acorn pancakes?" He suggested hopefully.

"You're kidding. Acorns?" Lori asked, smiling wryly, as she looked at Sam and Beth for confirmation.

"It's pretty good actually." Sam replied, shrugging. "Acorn flour has a nice, nutty flavor."

"And we also have wild onions and garlic, chickweed, Jerusalem artichokes, dandelions, cattails, and some Usnea lichen." Beth added.

"Lichen?" Carol asked dubiously while Maggie couldn't help but make a face at the thought.

"Believe it or not, it's high in vitamin C, and nearly everyone from the Native Americans to the Europeans to the Chinese have used it to dress wounds." Sam said reassuringly, setting her own bag down as she took a seat by the table so she could start sorting and prepping its contents for eating or whatever other plans she had for it. "Oh, yeah. I should probably add that it's going to rain soon, y'all might want to bring the laundry in before it gets wet."

"How—" Lori started to ask.

"The chickweed leaves were curled up." Carl said, grinning.

"Is there anything she doesn't know?" Maggie asked Beth as they went outside to help Carol take the laundry off the line.

"I'm starting to doubt that." Beth admitted, smiling wryly.

"Hey, look. The others are back." Glenn said when he saw the three men driving up in the grey Dodge Ram 1500 truck they had found at one of their last places, returning victoriously from the hunt with a stag in the back.

"Ha-hey!" T-Dog cheered as he went over to help Rick and Daryl drag it into the cabin. "All right, looks like we're gonna have us a feast."

"Praise the Lord." Maggie said, exhaling a sigh of relief. "For a minute there, I thought we might really end up having to Sam's lichen."

"Lichen?" Glenn asked, making a face.

"Don't ask." She told him, shaking her head. "Oh, crap!" She cursed when it suddenly started raining and rushed off to grab the rest of the laundry before it got soaked.

…

"We put down a walker about eight miles from her today." Rick announced as they were cleaning up after lunch. Everyone stopped what they were doing and glanced up at him.

"I'll get the chart." Sam said, about to get up, when Daryl stopped her.

"I got it." He told her. She needed to finish prepping those greens for drying and pickling.

"Does this mean we have to leave again?" Beth asked.

"It might." Hershel said as Daryl unrolled the chart they had made of known walker sightings with their number, status, and known locations on the table.

"That makes nine spotted within a ten mile radius over the last three days." Daryl informed them as they all gathered around to look.

"It's the same as that time a whole pack of them almost snuck up on us." T-Dog said. It wasn't exactly a full-fledged herd, but there had been enough of them to cause some serious trouble, and they were running low on ammo again.

"All right. We'll spend one more night here and hit the road in the morning." Rick decided after thinking for a moment. "That'll give us time to finish packing up and figure out our next destination."

"About that… I might have an idea." Glenn said, causing them all to glance at him. "Remember those keys we found that didn't fit any of the locks in the house? Well, I think they're for a storage locker. If this used to be someone's hunting cabin, then maybe that's where they kept their guns."

"If they're still there." T-Dog said.

"Even if that locker is empty, there could still be plenty of stuff left in the others." Daryl pointed out.

"But how would we get in without a key?" Lori asked.

"They'd have backups in the supervisor's office, wouldn't they?" Sam asked.

"I can't imagine too many people would've stayed around long enough to become walkers inside one of those place." Maggie added. If it was her, she would've gone home to be with her family rather than stay at work to guard who knows what.

"We probably won't find any food, but there could be clothes, blankets, furniture… some people put practically their entire homes in those things." Carol said. They glanced at her. "Ed used to watch this show called 'Storage Wars'." She explained.

"What if it's in a city?" Lori asked. "It could already be overrun."

"We can find one that isn't." Rick said. He was starting to like this idea. If those things were made to keep people from breaking in, then they might be able to keep walkers out. "It's settled. When we leave here tomorrow, we'll start looking for a public storage unit that isn't too close to the city. If it's secure, we can make runs to search other buildings and houses for food, canned goods that'll really last, start stocking up for the winter."

…

"I'm surprised you're not riding with Daryl." T-Dog remarked, glancing at Sam from behind the wheel of the truck. "What's the matter? You two get in a fight, or you just keeping an eye on your pickled greens and soggy acorns back there." Sam glanced back at the bed of the pickup where she had filled two drums up with acorns and water so they could start soaking the tallow out of them while on the move and the crate of mason jars full of pickled wild greens she had put together the previous evening.

"Sure, you make fun of them now, but we both know it'll be a different story once you're eating some hot and fluffy acorn bred fresh from the camp stove." She replied smartly. "There's nothing wrong. Daryl just needs space to be 'Daryl' every now and then."

"Well, he's got three whole car lengths now." T-Dog said with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "But I get what you're sayin'. We're always right on top of each other even when we're not on the road stuck in these cramped cars together."

"That's why you always volunteer to drive the truck, right?" Sam asked with a knowing smile. It was usually his chance to be on his own for awhile.

"Damn straight." T-Dog admitted, smiling. "Just don't spend too much time in here with me. I don't want to have to deal with a jealous, angry redneck on my ass."


End file.
